Batman Beyond: The Return of Two Face II
by ShadowHawk
Summary: Two-Face II, disfigured by chance is back and he's unleashing his ultimate revenge on Batman while a mysterious new vigilante emerges from the darkness and despair of Gotham City. Terry X OC. No reviews from you equals no continuation of the story!
1. Holiday Knight

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

Chapter 1: Holiday Knight

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Disclaimer: Well here it is folks, the long anticipated sequel to my first Batman Beyond story that some of you were saying that I left a few loose ends. Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus I don't own the characters used in this story. ALSO ANOTHER IMPORTANT NOTICE: I messed around with the timeline! XD For my plot to work, I had to rewind it a little, so it's still the same setting, in the future, but Bruce Wayne is only in his mid to late 60s. Around 65 or something. I really hope this doesn't piss anyone off, I just can't have him be in his 80s to do this damn thing. His heart condition is what keeps him from being Batman anymore. That being said, I understand if people want to stop reading after this. Well, ON TO THE FIC.

It had finally happened. Hell had frozen over. Christmas was two weeks off and arid snow was falling on Gotham City. Beneath its pristine white blanket, the city looked uncharacteristically serene -- almost inviting. It's a city of the future where gigantic buildings dwarf the ancient skyscrapers where a huge blimp, flashing lights and blaring sound drifts slowly over the tall buildings. As the blimp drifts through the tall buildings, several advertisements appear on the curved sides of dirigible and an accompanying soundtrack proclaims, with enthusiasm, the virtues of Christmas. Lights from the blimp flash along the street and wipe across the crowds of pedestrians as the voice track continues to blare from above.

Gotham City is a huge, sprawling metropolis of skyscrapers, metro-rails, and hover-cars. It's full of grungy buildings, neon signs, and power cables. It also has an interesting mix of japanese and english written on many of the signs. The wealthy life in the penthouses and crime to the poor are left to the ancient alleyways. Criminals are now high-tech assasins, genetically-engineered low lifes, CEOs of megacorporations, and even a few rampant Artificial Intelligences.

A small mesure of peace had been restored to this city that had long been seen as little more then an open wound upon society: strangers waved hello. It's been years since the new crimelord Two-Face II struck terror to the hearts of the people of Gotham City but thanks to the new Batman and the police, he was finally brought to justice or so they thought.

Several Salvation Army Santas rang their bells on streetcorners. As night fell, an illuminated sign winked on above Broad Avenue: 'JOYEUX NOEL GOTHAM -- Only 16 Shopping Days Left Till Christmas.' The streets were bustling with holiday shoppers. At a souvenir store, an exasperated mom squabbling with her seven-year old. Like many other storefronts in Gotham, it was overflowing with bootleg Batman merchendise: t-shirts, keychains, ceramic figurines, some honoring the new Batman others harkneing back to the First Batman. The kid is already wearing a Batman baseball cap and a little black cape, but he obviously wants more.

The mother drags him off past another store window, this one full of scrap metal, with a sign reading 'AUTHENTIC FRAGMENTS OF THE BATMOBILE -- $19.95 and up.' A panhandler is perched at the entrance. Beneath his array jacket is a grubby sweatshirt with the familiar yellow-and-black logo. In Gotham this winter, Batmania was everywhere once again.

Two hours later, the snowstorm had grown into a full-fledged blizzard. The drifts were two feet deep and the skyways and railways were all but empty of cars. A massive snow plow the size of a Panzer tank rumbled across the monorail tracks, revealing, a group of carolers, all bundled up in mufflers and parkas. Unbothered by the weather, they walked the street singing, spreading cheer and goodwill to the few passersby.

The carolers had just gone into a lovely a capella rendition of 'Silent Night' when an oversized delivery hover truck flew past. Its sides were decorated with cartoon igloos advertising a popular ice cream snack called Polar Bars. It was oddly inappropriate for this time of year. A streetcorner Santa, with bell and bucket, waves at the truck as it rounds a corner as the Carolers carol. No sooner was the hover truck out of sight when a violent explosion rocked the street followed by the sound of laser and automatic rifle fire and the high, wailing of a security alarm.

Around the corner there was carnage on the streets. The windows had been blown out of one of Gotham's leading jewelry stores. Wounded security guards stagger and go face down in the snow as a group of robbers, dressed in white camouflage gear, clamber out through the shattered glass with sacksfull of loot.

The carolers made their way around the corner to see what was going on, but were soon sent scurrying by a spray of laser and rifle fire. Once the street was cleared the Polar Bar truck landed outside the jewelry store. No sooner had it touched the ground when the rear doors opened, allowing a ramp to slide down from the back of the truck. The robbers scrambled aboard, as the sounds of approching sirens filled the air. A few seconds later a police hover car appeared, taking the corner just a trifle too fast, before crashing into the side of a near by building. The cops were about to climb out and give chase on foot when, when the cracked windshield suddenly disintigrated in a hail of automatic rifle fire.

A few seconds later the cops slumped over, their bodies torn apart by armor piercing rounds as their assailents races off to the last of the futuristic motorcycles, which was already filled with stolen loot. More squad cars converged on the jewelry store, however the foot deep snow drifts made landing all but impossible, while the blinding snow and sleet reduced visibility to near zero. The few police hovercrafts that managed to land skided to a halt, only to become blocked by the rumbling snowplow. By now, the robbers were gone. A disgruntled Commisioner Barbara Gordon sputters out into her radio in one of the squad cars. "What are you waiting for? Activate the signal!"

"But Commisioner, your feelings towards that vigilante...." said the worried dispatcher.

"JUST DO IT!!!" ordered Barbara because she was really not in the mood for this. She is dressed in black pants and a tan trench-coat that revealed nothing about the weapons she was probably carrying underneath it. Though white-haired and in her early sixties, Barbara is still a smart, tough-as-nails cop who you don't want to mess with. The most obvious difference is that she is a woman. Times, however, have change, and Barbara has had to change with it. Barbara knows who the original Batman was, having worked with him as Batgirl. She also knows that Terry, Bruce Wayne's new aide, is really the current Batman. But according to Barbara, she cannot have the same type of relationship with Terry as her father had with Bruce, even though she seems to be trying to make allowances.

"Yes, Ma'am," replied the dispatcher.

Motorcycles screamed across the sidewalks, sending the few hardy souls who were out on the streets diving for cover. The robbers faned out in various directions, in order to throw the police off their trail. A derlict, who had taken cover behind a firehydrent. For many who lived in Gotham City, police chases, armed robberies, were a daily occurence, for those who lived outside of Gotham's walls, the city was a festering wound, even though it had risen from the ashes of the earthquake, the plagues and the gang warfare of No Man's Land to become the metropolis it was today, the city was still riddled with corruption and a crime rate that was all but out of control. That is until the once renowned Bat Beacon blazes onto the edge of the night sky. It's a symbol of hope to all and fear to others who gaze apon it.

The Wayne family estate, the residence is typically depicted as a huge stately mansion on grounds outside Gotham City. It's situated on a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean and its official address is 1007 Mountain Drive. The manor had belonged to the Wayne family for several generations and once been a home to Dr. Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Richard 'Dick' Grayson and Timothy 'Tim' Drake but now it is a home to its only sole occupant, the last surviving member of the Wayne Family.

At its peak, the mansion had been used for entertaining guests from the highest levels of society and government. The manison was a fully equipped home with a kitchen, gym, multiple bedrooms, servants quarters, what appears to be a fully equipped library with multiple volumes, a vast collection of antiques ranging from guns to paintings and even a Ming vase prior to it being accidentally destroyed by the former butler, a multi-car garage as evidenced by the fact that a few different cars have been seen being driven away from the house over the course of time.

Now the mansion was little more then a shadow of its fomer glory, years of neglect and isolation had begun to take their toll on the mansion. The paint had long since become worn and faded, and the sounds of joy that had once filled the air around the mansion had long since fallen silent. The only signs of life was the occasonal barking of owner's guard dog. There's also a study which contains the secret entrance to the Batcave. It has never been specified if other entrances to the Batcave exists inside the house apart from the Grandfather clock in the study. Also, the house seems to be wired with surveillance cameras which one can view from the Batcave.

In the study room, a young man tries to convince his boss to kick back and relax as there's no need for him to go out on Christmas. "Come on, Mr. Wayne, it's almost Christmas Eve. Let's kick back and get into the spirit. My mom is cooking up a mean turkey dinner and it would be really nice if you were there to join us. It's a lot better then you having green soup every now and then."

The old man wearing his usual black blazer and pale blue shirt underneath grunted at him as he looked at his large painting of his parents that was hanging over the fireplace. Memories flashed in the old man's mind, drifting back to another time another life, a time when he knew the joy of having a mother and father who would always be there for him. Eventually his mind became fixated on one moment: The Mark of Zorro, yes that was the movie they had gone to see on that cold winter night so long ago.

The cold dark alley: it was suppose to have been a simple short cut, but it became a tomb. The events of that night were all over in a matter of seconds, but for him it seemed like an eternity, watching as one man's rash act robbed him of the two people he cared about the most in the world, as a young boy he watched in horror as those two shots became eched in his soul, and haunted his dreams. Sometimes he thought, that the last five decades, he had been chasing ghosts, trying to undo the events of that horrible night, trying to stop those two bullets only to fail every time. He remembered trying to save that young girl named Bunny Vreeland, the daughter of Veronica Vreeland, a member of the Gotham City elite. Bunny is also the granddaughter of General Vreeland and great granddaughter of Stanton Vreeland. Despite being paid the five million dollars in ransom money, her captors planned to execute her anyway.

Fortunately for her, the original Batman arrived and manages to beat most of the kidnappers, but is suddenly struck down by a crippling chest pain. The last remaining thug beats him around, commenting that The Dark Knight had been around since he was a kid. The old man remembered how his health had failed him, forcing him to do the one thing he had swore to God he would never do: point a gun at another human being. The thug runs away in fear and is captured by the police. He returned to the Batcave and puts the costume away and vows, 'Never again.' With that, he shuts off the lights and seals the Batcave, leaving his past behind in the dark until now.

"Doesn't it warm your heart to see everyone in the spirit of Christmas?" The young man stated with a smile on his face and continued to look down at the old man sitting in the chair.

The elderly man was a good four inches taller than him and the broad shoulders only made him look bigger. It should have been intimidating since he had always had a way of making you feel like a small child. But when the old man was sitting down, the young adult wasn't in the least bit nervous. He turned around some in his chair to look at the young adult, and then turned his attention back to the family photo. "Don't remind me." He sneered to his assistant.

The Bat Beacon can be seen through an elegant mansion window. Its reflection is picked up in an ornate mirror in the massive living room and then followed to another strategically set up mirror. The reflection glows against the faces of a sitting-in-darkness old man and the young adult. The old man wasn't just any old man; he was Bruce Wayne. The owner of a large corporation, as well as the former Batman. At one time, Bruce Wayne was probably the most sought-after man in Gotham. However, now he was just old and alone.

The elderly Bruce Wayne at one time allowed his company to be taken over by shrewd industrialist Derek Powers of Powers Technology due to his poor health and caused him so much regret. The two companies were eventually merged, becoming Wayne-Powers Enterprises. After Derek Powers' criminal identity as Blight was revealed, his son Paxton took over as CEO. Eventually, he was arrested for hiring the Royal Flush Gang to assassinate Bruce Wayne.

With the Powers family removed from power, Bruce decided to re-enter corporate affairs as CEO and Chairman of the Board. To prevent this, Jordan Pryce, the company's operation manager and Paxton Powers' successor to the job of chief executive officer had hired the Jokerz gang to assassinate Bruce again. They failed, and Jordan was arrested, allowing Bruce to resume full control over the company under its original name: Wayne Enterprises.

The other man that was beside him, on the other hand, was anything but old. He was young, probably about 20 years of age, and his body showed it. He was dressed in a black leather jacket, dark gray pants, black socks, black shoes, black shirt and a black belt. He had strong, firm muscles, but they were bulging out and horribly obvious. He had ice blue eyes that could pierce a person's soul, which were now currently darting to the old man. Unlike Bruce, the boy wasn't anything special in Gotham. He went to a local collage and lived with his mom and little brother. He was Terrence 'Terry' McGinnis, an ex-troublemaker with a sense of justice and the current Batman.

Terry was once a member of a street gang that was lead by his former friend Charlie 'Big Time' Bigelow, and had his fair share of run-ins with the Gotham City Police Department in his early teens, even serving a three-month stint in juvenile hall. At one time Terry saved a fellow passenger on a public elevator from a member of the Jokerz, and then takes on an entire gang of Jokerz to defend his ex-girlfriend Dana Tan, resulting in a high-speed motorcycle chase. The chase ends on the grounds of Wayne Manor, where Terry runs into the elderly Bruce Wayne. Bruce and Terry fend off the Jokerz gang together, but the fight causes Bruce's heart condition to act up.

Terry helped Bruce back to the manor and gets him his medication as Bruce proceeds to fall asleep afterwards. While staying there, Terry notices a bat stuck inside a grandfather clock as he tries to free it, he discovered the entrance to the Batcave. Chased out by Bruce, Terry comes home to discover that his father had been murdered by what he thought was the vengeful Jokerz gang but it turns out that Derek Powers was the real mastermind, in an effort to cover up a top secret and illegal bioweapons programs. Later Terry returned to Wayne Manor to 'borrow' the Batsuit. The Suit was almost 18 years old when Terry became Gotham's new savior; however, its technology was so advanced that the Suit was still considered state of the art and used it to avenge the death of his father. As crime and corruption are beginning once again to rear their ugly heads in Gotham, Bruce ultimately allows Terry to assume the mantle of The Batman.

Terry quickly found himself walking in the footsteps of his mentor in many ways. Like Bruce, he amassed his own rogue's gallery of villains, including Derek Powers' mutated form Blight, the assassin Curaré, the shape-changing Inque, sound engineer Walter Shreeve aka Shriek, former psychologist Dr. Ira Billings aka Spellbinder, and the Walker Family aka the latest incarnation of the Royal Flush Gang. At one time, Terry also found himself taking after his mentor in getting entangled without meaning to with a woman who was in reality a criminal named Melanie Walker otherwise known as Ten, and the daughter of the leaders of the Royal Flush Gang.

Terry occasionally faced some of his mentor's old enemies, including Dr. Victor Fries, through tragic circumstances, became known as the villain Mr. Freeze whose disembodied head survived for more than 50 years in cold storage before he was resurrected by Derek Powers. At one time when his mentor was feeling his age, a woman named Talia, the daughter of the megalomaniac Ra's al Ghul from his past offered him the chance to regain his youth and then discovered a horrific secret. Sometime after the Near-Apocalypse of '09, Ra's al Ghul's real body was far too injured even for the Lazarus Pit to restore. In order to avoid death, he called on Talia to make the ultimate sacrifice: herself. Ra's al Ghul had developed a computer allowing him to transfer his consciousness into another body, but it would only do so for someone who was a close genetic match whether Talia gave up her life willingly or not was not explained.

Then at one time when a drug using Venom, the same substance that enhanced Bane's strength is discovered to be a drug being sold to teenagers, Bruce sends Terry to Bane's home to confront him. However, when Batman enters Bane's room, all he sees is a broken old man on life support, not the threatening super-soldier the original Batman fought before. When Batman asks a servant about Bane, the servant replies that this was the effect on Bane from all the years of using Venom, and that Bane is actually using Venom in his life support to keep himself alive. Antonio Diego aka Bane was the son of Sir Edmund Dorrance, a mercenary known as King Snake. The son was an inmate of Pena Duro, a Cuban prison meant to contain the hardest, most dangerous convicts. He was chosen as a test subject for Project Gilgamesh, a government project to create super-soldiers with a new super-steroid codenamed Venom. The experiment was too successful and Bane escaped Cuba and hired out his services as a freelance assassin. Eventually he built his reputation to the point where he could demand five million dollars per job. Bruce Wayne paid Bane the tribute of telling Terry McGinnis that he was a formidable opponent.

Undoubtedly Terry's greatest challenge came with the return of the original Batman's deadliest enemy, The Joker. Having cheated death like Ra's al Ghul by transferring his consciousness into a microchip implanted in Tim Drake, the former Robin. The Joker returned to menace Gotham City, combining all his old cunning and dangerous unpredictability with a much-stronger genetically engineered body and a wealth of technical know-how.

At first, the young Tomorrow Knight and the old Clown Prince of Crime both made the mistake of underestimating each other; Terry dismissed the clown as an ineffective prankster, while The Joker dismissed the Bat-Fake as a rank amateur dependent on advice from the elderly Bruce Wayne. Both were proven incorrect, but Terry turned the old clown into a truism to win the day, putting a final end to The Joker; this earned him the heartfelt respect not only from Bruce, but also from Barbara and Tim, the older generation of Bat-Heroes.

Terry also gained a collection of allies. These included Barbara Gordon, the first Batgirl and now the Commissioner of Gotham Police. The alliance first started out on a sour note, as Barbara never fails to take Terry's juvenile record into account and believes he is too reckless for the role of Batman. The fact that Terry occasionally ruins police stakeout operations by intervening without fully assessing the situation sometimes worsens the situation. Barbara is reluctant to assist the new Batman and to have a teenager as Gotham's new protector. She advised Terry to give up being Batman, and once tried to arrest him after he was framed for murder of a 1960s rebel-stylized criminal named Stanley 'Mad Stan' Labowski by Spellbinder. However, realizing that she couldn't deter him anymore than she could've been deterred from being Batgirl, she eventually warms up to Terry, assisting him when Bruce was put out of action by a revived Joker.

She states that she hopes Terry would avoid the lonely existence that Bruce leads. However, Barbara's attitude is different from Jim Gordon's, and she notes once that she is not her father, never working as closely with Terry as her father did with Bruce. (i.e. using a Bat-Signal, directly giving him cases, etc).

Terry's most valuable ally by far was school friend Maxine 'Max' Gibson, who stumbled on his secret identity when they were both threatened by a rogue student named Carter Wilson aka Terminal back at Hamilton Hill High School, and turned her considerable brains and energy to his aid. Max had first-class skills with research, data retrieval, and computer hacking. More than that, she helped Terry maintain his 'normal' life as a student, and was always there with a sympathetic ear. Terry initially hides Bruce's identity from Max, but Max already has enough information to deduce that Terry's employer was actually the original Batman.

She tells him that he cannot call her 'Robin' but Terry jokingly called her his 'Alfred' naturally because she fails to understand the reference, given the former butler's lack of exposure in the original Batman's exploits to the public in the past. Terry and Max remain close, but their relationship is never shown to exceed the boundaries of friendship.

Also like Bruce, Terry came to prefer operating alone. Like the original Batman, he was once offered membership in the Justice League by Superman. Though he may have been more tempted than Bruce was at the time, Terry eventually declined, put off by the other Leaguers' willingness to endanger his own life. In the process, however, he almost single-handedly saved Superman, and in turn the world, from an alien invasion, likewise earning the respect of the League and possibly even greater admiration from Marina aka Aquagirl, princess of the brilliant artificial island city on the surface of the ocean called Atlantis. She is also the daughter of Queen Mera and the legendary hero Aquaman.

Bruce and Terry move out of the light that shined in their faces. "Suit up McGinnis." Bruce ordered his assistant to the Bat-title as he headed for the Batcave with his dog, a Great Dane mix named Ace. The dog has been the closest companion for Bruce in his later years.

When Ace was a puppy, he was bought from a pet store by Ronny Boxer who forced dogs to fight one another gladiator style for the amusement of paying crowds. When the police busted Boxer's game, Ace escaped this abusive, violent life. He wandered around Gotham for a while and soon found Bruce, a fellow tormented soul, who was making his yearly pilgrimage to the spot where his parents died. Ace attacked a member of the Jokerz gang who was about to attack Bruce but was injured. Bruce saved him and brought the dog to his home. Terry McGinnis, on the other hand, seemed to be the only other person Ace ever connected to.

Terry watches the old man and the dog go and sighs. "Typical," Terry said, under his breath, "even on Christmas." Bruce simply shot Terry a cold glare. "Oh, 'Bah humbug' to you too!" He stated as he followed them to the cave below the manison. Bruce may have been a dirtbag, but oddly enough Terry cared for him. Ever since his dad died, Bruce was really the only man around in his life -- and hey, if you're gonna have a role model you might as well go for a super hero.

In a chamber all gleaming chrome and inky shadow, two black gauntlets snapped into place on each arm. Terry dons the mask and accompanying cowl as the folds of a dark cape whipped around the shoulders clad in a simple black bodysuit. The bodysuit is made of hardened kevlar plates on a titanium-dipped fiber and is broken into multiple pieces of armor over a more flexible bodysuit for greater mobility. As a trade-off, however, the flexible armor leaves Batman more vulnerable to injury from bullets or knives in favor of increased flexibility and lighter weight. A bat-shaped buckle locked securely and finally, the red bat-emblem was placed on his chest, glowing like a target in the darkness. Also, a strong electric current runs through the cowl of the Batsuit, that prevents anyone except Terry from removing it, further protecting his identity.

Deep within the Batcave, Terry was prepearing for action as he finally emerged as The Tommorow Knight from his costume vault and into the massive grandeur of the Batcave.

There are new sate-of-the-art computer systems that flashed and surveillance screens monitoring news and police frequencies that kept an ever alert eye on every that happend in Gotham City including Bruce who was perched responsibly in a seat in front of computer with his dog laying beside him as he needed to work in silence.

"This is getting tiresome," Bruce said to Ace and massaged the space between his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. Ace's head lifted up and looked at something behind Bruce, but didn't growl. Bruce caught the action in the corner of his eye and turned around to look into the darkness behind him. Ace's ears moved trying to hear the sounds Bruce couldn't, but still he didn't growl. Bruce searched the darkness and saw one foot step into the light. He knew immediately who it was.

Though a hiss of a escaping steam, Terry storde towards the pedestal that rose from the center of the cave floor. On it a new, sleeker, futuristic, and... well, indescribable more powerful Batmobile. Fifteen feet long, the sleek black Batmobile boasted the kind of horsepower that would haul a tank, with every electronic safety and traction device known to automotive science and a few were unknown outside this very cave as he clambers into the black car, instantly flipping it into fourth gear.

"Just remember Terry, be back here in an hour," he heard his boss say over the radio.

"Yeah, I know," he responded. "Batman out."

'I don't think I'll ever get use to hearing that,' Bruce thought to himself.

Terry shuts off the com-link and slowly starts up the Batmobile, a jet of pink firework flame erupts from the exhaust because Bruce had grown weary of the reasonably priced cost of simple petrol fuel, catapulting the vehicle through the cave. Under a series of support arches, the car picked up speed and ahead of Batman was a solid cave wall. But the amazing machine never faltered --- plunging straight through the hologram, then through the trees on the other side, out onto the forest track. A very expensive precaution, but the most secure way to maintain his mentor's privacy. Batman's foot pressed pedal to the metal, and the mighty machine shot forward, speeding toward the twinkling lights of Gotham City.

A Cop, was taking a radio call as he streaked down the long wide avenue bordering Gotham Park -- one of the few streets which was relatively clear. The cop at the wheel suddenly became wide-eyed and nudged his partner in disbelief. Before their eyes, five motorcycles appeared from the cross streets up ahead and converged at the entrance to Gotham Park. Bringing up the rear was a man dressed in a Santa Clause costume.

"What the hell?" the cop inquired. As he brought the hover car to a halt. Several other squad cars were soon massed at the entrance to the park but there was one problem. The city's snow plows don't operate on the park roads and the entrance was blocked off with sawhorses reading 'CLOSED TO TRAFFIC.' A huge steep drift prevented the police from entering so all they can do is stand by helplessly, watching as the motorcycles vanished into the trees.

The cops race about, trying to conduct a plan. A couple of them were trying to scale the stone walls of the park. Another was at his car, barking into a radio mike, "Yeah, dispatch" the cop said, "you heard me, motorcycles!" he paused for a few moments, "So what do we do? Chase 'em on foot??"

The silence that had fallen over the area was soon broken by the loud blare of a horn. The cops peered down the long corridor of the cross street, just in time to see a large black vehicle barreling toward them at 90 MPH, with no intention of stopping. The cops dove left and right, trying desperatly to get out of the way. A split-second later a forty foot jet of raw fire erupted from the front of the jet-black supercar dissolving the drift that blocked the entrance to the park in the space of a few seconds.

The Batmobile screamed past in the wink of an eye. The cops got to their feet; cold as it was, they were actually sweating.

"Batman," one of the cops said, whiping some sweat from his brow.

"NO SLAG SHERLOCK!!" his partner replied.

The two cops made their way into the nearest squad car, with the others following suit. The engines of the Hover Cars and motorcycles reeved up, and soon the cops were following the path the Batmobile had cleard. Two Teenagers both dressed in red berets and parkas with black Batman sweatshirts visible underneathwere trudging along the path when they were startled by a pair of speeding Cycles. Moments later, they spotted a red glow on the horizon, a few seconds later the Batmobile roared into view, burning off the snow in its' path. Thrilled beyond words, they whoop with glee, slapping high-fives as the car streaks past.

Batman's face is weirdly illuminated by the flame still spitting from the front of the car. Cool as ever -- approaching the chase as a simple problem in logic -- he checks a radar display on his dashboard and sees five blips.

The cops followed Batman's path. The lead hovercar though suddenly suffered a power failure, causing it to fly out of control and plow headlong into a drift. The driver made his way out to check on the damage, only to discover that his car's main battery was leaking fluid, and the fluid had spilled onto the engine, shorting it out completly. The cop just sat there there cursing, and kicking the car's door as the other cops raced past him on foot.

The various robbers had spread out, their vehicles skimming over the hilly terrain of the park. Batman slowly drew closer on two of the robbers, but as he came within range of being able to capture them, they suddenly split up, veering off to the left and right.

Batman simply smiled as he pressed a button on the dashboard, missle launchers were quickly rotated into place on the front fenders. With another press of a button a pair of heat seeking missiles were launced toward a snow drift, each one burrowing into the snow on either side.

The motorcycle's pilot looked back over his shoulder just in time to see what appeared to be a black shark like fin plowing through the snow behind him. He tried to take evasive action, but the shark fin seemed to match his movements perfecally. Just as he approached the crest of a hill the missile slamed into the rear of the motorcycle. The force of impact knocked the robber off. His loot landed in the snow beside him, but the hovercycle kept going sailing over the crest of the hill before striking the rocks beyond with a deafening explosion.

The other robber was a little smarter than his buddy. When he saw another shark fin on his tail, he nosed his motorcycle off the path into a near by grove of trees. The trees were too closely spaced for the missile to maneuver effectivily, and it struck a near by tree trunk and exploded harmlessly.

A grin of accomplishment crept across the robber's face, because the grove was narrow enough that it prevented the Batmobile from following as well. As Batman drove alongside the grove, he hit the excellerator, and quickly shot past the motorcycle. A steel spike attached to a cable launched from the side of the Batmobile and implanted itself into a distant tree. As the Batmobile drove past, the cable grew taught, and pulled the tree down directly into the path of the second motorcycle. Before the robber had a chance to react the motorcycle slammed into the trunk, sending him cartwheeling head-over-heels into a near by drift.

"Not bad for a nights work," Batman said, over the raido built into his cowl.

"Don't get overconfident Terry," Bruce replied, "There are still two more out there," before Batman had a chance to reply, Bruce cut him off, "Oh and Terry, your mom called, she wants you to pick up a quart of milk on the way home." Batman simply slapped himself in the face. However he had other things to worry about other then his mom's errand.

The remaining motorcycles bounced down the hillside and skid to the edge of a frozen lake. With the roar of the Batmobile behind not far behind them, the two drivers smiled at each other as they reved their engines and sped out over the surface of the lake.

The Batmobile crested the ridge. The car's weight tiped suddenly and it began to skid down the hill toward the lake. Just as the car was about to come to the edge of the lake but he was unable to brake the car on the snowy slope. The prow of the Batmobile slid out onto the edge of the lake and under its weight, the ice began to crack. The left front tire suddenly took a dip causing the car to slide forward.

Batman shift frantically from drive to reverse, trying to rock the car out of its predicament, but the rear wheels found no traction. He could hear the ice cracking beneath him. Thinking quickly, he threw a switch on the dashboard causing the trunk to pop open. An industrial-strength grappling hook shoot upward and dug into a point beyond the crest of the hill; and a concealed winch began to grind away, hauling the Batmobile uphill, and out of danger.

Suspended just above the icy lake, Batman saw the motorcycles vanishing into the distance. He opened another panel on the dashboard.

The robbers gave each other a big thumbs-up. They were almost halfway across the lake and the Batmobile was disabled.

Suddenly the silence was broken by a strange whistling overhead.

"Fireworks," one of the robbers asked.

"No," The other robber replied, recognizing the sound "THERMITE BOMB!" The bomb hit the ice some forty feet ahead of them and exploded. Jagged chunks of ice were blown free, creating a large hole, before long the robbers were skidding into the drink.

The last of the robbers still on the lose was the robber dressed as Santa Clause. He approached the edge of the park, negotiating his way through a maze of rocky outcroppings. He squirted out from behind a boulder and into a clearing and gasped in panic as a searing burst of flame erupted from behind him. The Batmobile suddenly sped out from the other side of the boulder. Santa quickly twisted his accelerator, desperately trying to build up speed. He was barely managing to stay ahead of the flamethrower.

A few moments later the jet of flame suddenly died; the hood of the Batmobile rises half a foot and twin projectials suddenly launched into the air. A heavy net was strung between them and it landed smack on top of the robber, entangling the motorcycle and stopping it in it's tracks.

The cops were spread out near the entrance. They've rounded up the other robbers and had returned most of the loot. A dull roar could be heard in the distance and a few seconds later the Batmobile streaked into view, dragging the net behind it, with the robber and his loot and motorcycle still wrapped up in it.

At the entrance to the park, the net detached itself from the Batmobile, dumping the robber into the hands of the waiting cops. Without stopping, the Batmobile roared out of the park and vanished into the darkness. A mildly-humiliated cop turned to his colleague and shrugged.

"Merry Christmas," he grunted under his breath. His partner pointed to the robber, still struggling in the net.

"Gift-wrapped and everything." the other cop replied, as he cuffed the robber.

To be continued...


	2. Secret Origins

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 2: Secret Origins

Author's Notes: Wow, only 5 reviews? what gives? O_o We put so much effort in this and only get 5? Come on people you can do better then that.

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Mini Cam crews were camped out on the steps of Gotham City Hall, with a sizable crowd watching from the street. Commissioner Barbara Gordon, was in the midst of reading from a prepared statement.

"After a high-speed chase," Barbara said "over $750,000 in precious jewels were recovered intact by the police force, working in concert with Batman."

The moment Batman's name was mentioned, chanting began to go up from the crowd.

"TAKE BACK THE STREETS! TAKE BACK THE STREETS! TAKE BACK THE," was heard over and over again coming from the crowd.

Barbara let out a sigh. The chanters were a group of pugnacious, well-muscled kids, all in their late teens and early twenties, all dressed in identical garb: black Batman sweatshirts and little red Guardian-angel berets like the ones in the park.

Barbara waited for them to shut up, but when they didn't, she grabbed the mike and began to speak slowly and distinctly, trying to be heard over the din.

"I would like to stress," Barbara said,"that while this city enjoys a special relationship with Batman we do not condone vigilantism IN ANY FORM!"

Deep down though, Barbara couldn't help but laugh, after all she had been a vigilantie herself back in the day. It was no use. She was totally drowned out by the Red Berets, who continued to shout and shake their fists.

Giving up, she returned the mike to a reported and marched up the steps in a huff. One man who sitting on the bench away from the crowd was completely in black - black trenchcoat, red scarf around his face, and a black hat looks at them as he recalled his time when he was sent to Arkham.

Flashback...

Jeffery Dent sat in his cell in New Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane psychiatric hospital flipping his coin repeatedly in his good hand. He didn't watch it go up and then land perfectly in the palm of his hand, nor did he look at what the toss came out to be. He wasn't flipping the coin to make a decision. He was flipping it in a bizarre sort of comfort that he got from doing so. He is wearing his prison-issue orange jumpsuit, a long-sleeved white shirt, white socks, and navy blue corduroy slippers.

He was aware of voices in the hall, most likely the orderlies, doctors and guards, but he paid them no mind. The staff is far more heavily armored than in its previous incarnation, wearing heavy trenchcoats and gloves, which is, in spite of itself, no deterrent for the patients to easily escape.

Two figures came up to his glass window and he heard the two voices belonging to Dr. Elizabeth Arkham, the granddaughter of Dr. Jeremiah Arkham and current Administrator, and Dr. Jack Burton, a gaunt, pale, with a tangle of shoe-polish black wild haired psychiatrist. Dr. Arkham wasn't exactly the ideal image of a psychiatrist, she knew this. She was only five feet tall, and slender, but muscular. Dr. Burton could tell she worked out, because her pencil skirt showcased her muscled legs very well. Her butt on the other hand, because the lab coat got in the way, was every bit as firm as her legs. Her glasses had thick black square frames, and her hair was pulled up in a severe bun. If it weren't for the lab coat, she would have passed off as a librarian.

"What can you tell me about this patient?" Dr. Arkham asked her employee.

He looks at his clipboard with the reports, "Dr. Jeffery Dent, also known as Two-Face II: Paranoid schizophrenic with homicidal tendecies. Secondary diagnosis is a borderline personality disorder, or perhaps multiple personality - we can't be certin. We do know that he's like his father Harvey Dent. Following the system of Twos."

Dr. Arkham turns her head to face Dr. Burton. "Medication?" she asks.

"Just about every combination we can think of - Heavy sedatives to keep his meal times manageable. A combination of antipsychotics such as dopamine and antdepression to relive the agitation. Dr. Dent experiences frequent hallucinations as a result of his psychosis. He's convinced he shares his body with another person. In effect, he has literally become two people." Dr. Burton stated his report to her.

Dr. Arkham became intrigued as she turned to face the criminal in his cell, "Interesting... This 'Two-Face' persona - do we know where it first emerged?"

He checked his clipboard for the records, "Supposedly as a result of an accident with acid some years ago when he worked at the labs of Wayne Enterprise. Half of his face melted during the incident and this seemed to be a catalyst for the emergence of the second personality."

"Acid? That hardly seems likely to have been the source of such a radical change. Haven't we been able to get to a root cause?" She inquired.

"We've been working with shock therapy treatments in hopes we can isolate the second personality. Frankly Doctor, I'm beginning to wonder if we're not having an adverse effect on this patient. If anything, the artifical persona Jeffery has constructed seems to become more and more dominant with every pressing day." he stated

"Understandable, given his history of pyschotic and antiscoial behavior. Can we estmate his chances of recovery?" she inquired

He shrugged again, "To be honest, somewhere around zero."

Jeffery continued ignored them as his mind was on one thing. The dream. Last night he had a dream, one he hadn't had in a very long time. But then, he hasn't been himself in a very long time. He was in control now though, for how long he wasn't sure. He could feel his other side, Two-Face II, at the edge of his consciousness.

He was sure once given a chance the evil side to him would take over, why he didn't while Jeffery was distracted was beyond the former chemist of Gotham City. Maybe it was because he didn't feel like dealing the memories that came up last night. For last night Jeffery Dent dreamed of his past, his childhood. He remembered when he was 8 years old, his Godfather Bruce Wayne would visted his family and Jeffery would run up to him with his toy doctor play kit and hugged him. "You know what I wanna be when I grow up, Godfather?" he'd asked.

Bruce smiled with his arms open as he embraced his Godson's hug and he looked at him, "Let me guess, Jeff... a fireman? A dog catcher? - Perhaps The President?"

Jeffery giggled at his Godfather's guesses, "No, Godfather - I wanna be just like you. You're like a doctor - you help people."

Bruce smiled at his Godson's goal, "Well that's what life is all about Jeff - Helping people. Our love - our compassion - are the only things that set us apart from the beasts of the fields. Promise me you'll never forget that Jeff."

Jeffery smiled at his Godfather as he hugged him. "I won't Godfather... I promise." Both Harvey and Grace smiled at the kind words that Bruce gave out to their son.

At one time when he awoke in his room from the sounds of his parent's arguments, he would go downstairs to the basement to see them, Harvey was in a spat with Grace just before he left for his office at one of the smaller law firms. "Please tell me the truth." she begged him. Harvey was not in the mood, "Are we having this discussion? I'm due back at the office in an hour, Grace. What are you doing in the basement?"

Grace was nervous at her husband's angry tone when she replied, "I found something Harvey. On your workbench. It's one of those guns, isn't it? Like the killer in the newpapers." As she showed him the Ruger Standard .22 caliber pistol. Harvey took away the gun from Grace. "It's evidence. We're working on this thing. It has to stop."

Grace was concerned, "Harvey, I'm your wife, talk to me. Since when do you bring evidence home from the office?"

"What are you asking me? I'm the District Attorney, I do it all the time." as he put the gun in his suit case.

"Daddy?" a small voice enters the frey, both Harvey and Grace turn to face their son in his PJs with a stuffed Bat-Mite in his hand. "Why are you fighting?"

Harvey walks over to his son and kisses him on the head, the older man was still amazed, Jeffery was so much like him when he was young while Harvey was certainly showing his age. He was still broad shouldered and straight backed, but his hair had long gone silver. His face was lean with sharp cheek bones, and his left side which had undergone many reconstructive surgeries was starting to sag slightly and go pouchy. "Don't worry about it, You be good now son, take care of your mother." as he left the basement.

Jeffery was confused at what just happened as Grace walks up to him and wrapped her arms around him holding him tightly. Grace was a woman who still looked to be in the prime of her life. "I know what you're thinking my little darling, but don't worry your father is just concerned about our lives. He's just trying to make what's best for us." she stated to him.

One day Jeffery at the age of 12, was comming home late from his friend's place, Grace was going to be upset with him again. Jeffery cursed as he came through the door, nearly tripping over the threshold. "Mom! I'm home!"

Silence.

He sighed. This was becoming more frequent with each day. Jeffery just barely took the stairs two at a time, a feat he was proud of since his growth spurt last month. He found her in her bedroom waltzing to some big band music from one of her records. Her left arm was curled around her invisible partner's waist, her right hand caressing the air of his cheek. The sight made Jeffery pause.

"Mom," he went over to sit down at her vanity. She didn't even look in his direction. "Mom?" Jeffery waited, his eyes studying her as the song died away.

She turned, shocked. "Oh honey! You need to warn mommy when you sneak up on her liked that!" She twirled around, humming to herself as she drifted to the bed. "Hang on love, mommy just has to change."

She started pulling the straps of her dress over her shoulders, showing more of her cleavage. Jeffery had to force himself not to stare, and instead studied the lighthouse painting on the wall behind him. His thirteenth birthday was only days behind him, and he was finding his mother's behavior more and more disturbing. Sometimes she seemed to do it on purpose.

He cleared his throat, "Who were you dancing with tonight, Mom?"

"Hmm? Oh a young gentleman, a fine one at that! He's your father. But don't worry, Jeffery, his looks paled compared to yours." She ruffled his shabby black hair affectionately.

Jeffery took that to be his cue that the view was safe. She'd changed into a black dress with large white swirls coiling up from the base. He couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a snake or some rope, either way it was ugly. She was putting on makeup in the mirror, her lips were moving as she whispered to herself.

"Well no, I don't think so. I think he was a terrific dancer." She smiled brilliantly, her sky-blue eyes glinting in the dimming sunlight.

"Sorry I was late again, Mom." Jeffery whispered, half hoping she wouldn't hear him talking.

"What was that, honey? Mommy was busy with..." she paused, her hands hovering over the makeup. "What was I doing again?"

"You were talking about the dance?"

"Dance?"

Jeffery swallowed. Not this again. "Yes, with my father?"

She laughed heartily. "Oh Jeffery, you and your stories! You really should be a writer with an imagination like that!"

Jeffery scowled, "I wasn't lying, Mom. I was just repeating what you said!"

"Alright, Jeffery. Stop this nonsense. For such a beautiful little boy, you truly are a spiteful little devil, aren't you?"

Jeffery felt his face flush with anger. Sometimes he couldn't tell if he hated her or loved her.

One day Jeffery at the age of 16 opened up a trunk in the attic and found his father's old Black and white split-down-the-middle Armani suit along with the shoes to match. There were several old newspaper clippings of his old man as the infamous Two-Face.

Back then before his father's pre-criminal days, Harvey Dent was Gotham's District Attorney and a true guardian of law and order. Well-regarded as fearless law enforcer, his father had a reputation for producing results. While running for public office, a Mob Boss named Rupert Thorne acquired his father's psychiatric medical files and learned that his father was seriously mentally ill with a barely controlled case of multiple personality disorder.

The Gangster used this information on his father's moment of re-election victory to blackmail him. The overflowing anger at Rupert's threats and his gang's taunts brought his father's alter ego, 'Big Bad Harv' to the surface, and he attacked the Mob Boss. As Rupert fled the scene with his father in tow, a henchman shot and destroyed a vat of chemicals, scarring the left half of his father's body. The accident hit on multiple levels: scarred physically and emotionally, he became Two-Face, a villain driven by chance and luck.

But what really caught Jeffery's sight was the silver dollar coin with the burns on one side. His father would tell him stories when he was Gotham's feared criminal and Batman became his deadliest enemy. Ironic because they'd been close allies - Ironic because they were so much alike.

Harvey would tell him that he didn't want his only son to end up like him. Jeffery made a vow that he wouldn't become a criminal like his father but his fate would be decided by that coin.

He remembered that he was born to a middle-class family in Granton during an era where Gotham City was racked by urban riots and civil unrest. Jeffery's father Harvey worked for one of the smaller law firms to atone for his criminal past while his mother Grace, a school teacher for the local grammar school, raised him.

The young Jeffery Dent impressed teachers with his diligence and coaches with his athletic abilities. But some who knew him as a child report that Jeffery carried within him a unique determination.

"You couldn't tell him that he wasn't old enough to do something," said his third-grade teacher Sally Rowe Bowling. "Jeffery refused to give up on the things he tried, he said that science was his best interest."

Other teachers remember a boy who seemed somehow different from others. "He was a serious-minded boy," said Gabriella Cohn-Solomon, his fifth-grade teacher. "There was something sad about him. Like he was already grown up."

After graduating from one of Gotham's first magnet high schools, Jeffery Dent decided to stay in the city for college. "He could have gone anywhere," said his high school guidance counselor Jeremy Benthune. "But Jeffery said Gotham City was his family, and that he could never leave it."

Jeffery attended the University of Gotham, where he played soccer for the varsity team and majored in Political Science. After graduating with honors, he got himself a job at Wayne Enterprise, thanks to his Godfather where he worked in the science department. Still, a few of the co-workers manage to pull a larger prank on Jeffery. Two of them named Leonardo Wiltz and Richard Garrison give Jeffery a marijuana joint laced with poison, which he smokes in the science lab where he is working on a chemistry project (It is later mentioned that he was due to win an award for his work in chemistry, but was unable to pick up the award because of his co-worker's pranks). The joint makes him so sick he runs to the men's room to vomit. While he is gone, Ashley Madison, one of the popular scientists, rigs his experiment to explode in Jeffery's face.

Upon Jeffery's return, the set-up works, causing Jeffery to panic, and a great fire to erupt in the lab after he knocks over a Bunsen burner. In the struggle, Jeffery accidentally bumps into a shelf where a precariously placed jug of acid called Vitriol that he was working on sits, causing the jug to fall and break, which splashes acid on his face, leaving him horribly disfigured. The sound attracts the attention of the employees, who stand by the door in shock and many of them now start to show signs of remorse as Jeffery was howling in agony, clutching one side of his face.

Those in the room actually saw smoke rising from between his fingers even as they fused to his face. When the ER doctors pried the hands away, they found a grotesque of corroded flesh. One side of Jeffery's face was literally melted, some of it vaporized and missing, the rest hideously scarred.

Dr. Paul Moreau had over 30 years of medical experience, had travelled all over the world, and had seen just about every horrific thing you could imagine on the operating table. At least, he thought he had. He strode through the corridors of the ER with purpose, being briefed by medical staff as he made his way to his newest patient.

"What's his condition?" he asked.

"Critical," the younger doctor replied, rushing to keep up with Dr. Moreau, "Ambulance just wheeled him in. Had to cover him up, to... well, you know, there's kids there out front. Don't really know if we can do anything for him..."

"That's for me to decide," snapped Dr. Moreau, with more than a hint of arrogance, "Is he conscious?"

"Not really," the young doctor replied, "Ambulance crew say he's drifted in and out a few times. Ranting, delirious. But now they've pumped him up so full of tranqs he wouldn't know or care if they were sawing him in half. And it's probably for the best he stays that way."

Dr. Moreau took the notes away from the young doctor, then waved him away like an annoying fly. He had reached his destination. Behind this curtain lay Dr. Jeffery Dent. He pulled open the curtains, and immediately regretted doing so. "Good Lord..."

The surgeon staggered back down the ward, away from the bed. He made it over to one of the wash-hand basins, which he proceeded to vomit into. A couple of nurses rushed over to him, to see if he was okay.

"H-h-his face!" Dr. Moreau sobbed, "Look at... at his face!"

After his escape from the hospital where he was staying at due to his horrific accident at the labs, he returned his parent's house and headed straight for the attic dressed in a dirty black trenchcoat and bandages covering his entire face. He spots a mirror in the attic and began to remove his bandages, "I must not be afraid." he told himself.

The bandages were finally removed as Jeffery stares at his face for the first time with horror stricken eyes as he saw every disfiguring scar on the left side of his face. "My face! The acid has left one side scarred and hideous! My career - my life - ruined! People will shrink from me, fear me. I'm like a Jekyll and Hyde - A figure half evil just like my father in his day." His gnarled lips and clenched teeth pulled into a frozen sneer on one side of his face made almost everything he said a growl.

Truly frightening in appearance, but in this skittering darkness, something snaps in Jeffery's anguish torn brain. "That settles it. This proves I was ment to follow my father's footsteps as a criminal. Fate had decreed it. I'm doomed to look this way for the rest of my life. Alright, if that's the way it must be, I'll give it the final test. Father kept his famed Two-Faced coin, to keep as a memento. I'll soon see if its decision concurs with that of fate."

He then spotted and broke open the trunk, took off his trenchcoat and hospital gown and then puts on his father's old black and white split-suit with the shoes to match and then took out the coin. "My father's silver dollar with one side marred - the evil face was his symbol in his day as it shall be mine. If that comes up when I spin the coin - then beware Batman, beware."

Grace heard voices comming from upstairs in the attic, when she got there, she saw her son with showing off his good side of his face, "Jeffery darling, the bandage is gone from your face. What a lovey surprise. Let me see."

Jeffery slowly turned his face, the gruesome left side emerging from the shadows, its tortured flesh a hideous mass of red tissue. "Yes Mother... Surprise now... Look, look again. A face divided into beauty and ugliness. Queer... frighting, isn't it?" Grace was shocked, it was happening all over again.

"So my face is repulsive even to you dear mother who I thought loved me. Look again, look at the man who was once called your son... LOOK!" Jeffery snarled.

Grace no matter what she was still frighten by his new change. "No, no Jeffery, I can't bear it. Please don't. You're not like your father."

Jeffery flips the coin high into the air and it drops into his hand and in that palm is held his fate: Bad side up, "Jeffery is gone, Two-Face is more like it, don't you think? From now on I decide everything on a flip of a coin... on its two faces that symbolizes mine... Beautiful and ugly... Good and Evil... HA HA HA HA HA!" He laughs evily and disappears into the shadows.

Grace fell on her knees and cried as Harvey came upstairs to find his wife there, "What's wrong Grace?"

She points to the opened trunk as Harvey looked at the old newspaper clippings on the ground and then relized that his old black and white suit with the shoes to match as well as his old coin were missing from the trunk. "Oh no..." as he looked at the opened window. And so is born the most bizarre, the most unpredictible crime-master of all time Gotham City had long ago forgotten, Two-Face II.

That coin started it all.

He caught his coin in his hand and looked at it. It was scratched and charred on the side facing up at him. This coin. This was the coin that was his reason for being the men he is today. He hated it. Despised it. But he could never get rid of it. His ultimate decider on anything was this coin. But the coin was now different then when it was in his father's hands. He ran the index finger of his scarred and burnt hand along the similar surface of the two headed silver dollar. For now one side was blackened and scarred much like Jeffery's body and soul.

He picked up the coin from his hand and thought about what he used to be like. What he had. He was panged with grief, if only for a moment. He had everything all he ever wanted. Jeffery was always trying to find ways to help the people with science in Gotham as the youngest and most successful chemist of the city; he was engaged to a beautiful and kind woman soon to be Mrs. Melanie Dent.

Melanie. There was a name he hadn't thought of in a while. From what he's heard, it seems the poor woman can't escape two faced men. Figuratively and literally. He had several feelings when he found out this bit of news from the only person that he might still one day be able to love.

In another time, Jeffery did a lot of things in a hurry but one of things he always took his time doing was getting ready for work in the morning. He chose his suit carefully the night before, hanging it up on the closet door so it was the second thing he saw when he rolled over. Melanie had called him OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder) and he had smiled over his shoulder at her while he was hanging up his lucky light brown suit. She was wearing a long pink nightgown with spaghetti straps and a deep cut square neck. She was totally naked under it as well except for a pair of pink thong underwears and was sitting on his bed, leaning back on her hands, smiling.

"Is that your way of flirting with me? Because you know," He paused to turn around and walk over to her, leaning his body over hers on the bed. "You don't have to do that. But I sure as hell like it."

Melanie tilted her head to one side, his face inches from hers. He smelled good. No matter how hard he worked he smelled like light cologne and shampoo all day long.

"Oh I'm very aware of the things you like Jeffery." Her voice was smooth and husky. One finely manicured hand had reached over to turn off the lamp but he had stopped her.

"No," He whispered. "I want to see what I'm doing to you."

Hours go by...

"What would you do if anything ever happened to me?" Melanie said, her head resting on Jeffery's shoulder as they lay side-by side on the bed, the flush of their recent lovemaking cooling on their skin.

"You know I'd never let anything happen to you," he said, nuzzling against her neck.

She pulled away, turning onto her side to face him, a thoughtful frown on her lips, "I'm serious. This is Gotham City, anything could happen, and it's not as if I don't have enemies. The mob, the Jokerz, even a random mugger..." she was cut off by the sudden, almost imperceptible tightening of Jeffery's embrace. Craning her neck, Melanie could see the effect her words had wrought on her lover. It was as if all the easy grace had been poured out his body. He looked strangely brittle, his shoulders tense, and the muscles of his jaw standing out in sharp relief against the planes of his face.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, it's a fair question," he said. Taking a deep breath, he rolled onto his back and cast his gaze up to the ceiling. "First I would get revenge."

"Revenge?" Melanie gave a short laugh devoid of humor, "Jeffery, you wouldn't... I mean, you are the most non-violent person I've ever met. I always thought that was... refreshing about you."

"But I'm not," he said, refusing to be swayed from the subject now that it had arisen, "I have a dark side, Annie, just like anyone else. If something happened to you, if someone hurt you, or, God forbid, if someone killed you," he unconsciously tightened his embrace, "I think I would lose my mind."

For a moment, they sat in silence, his words heavy in the air.

"I wouldn't want that. If anything happened... I would want you to heal, to move on. You're not a man of vengeance; you're a man of science."

"Some would say they're one and the same. That justice is just the name we made up to cover up the truth; that every single law was written just so people could have revenge."

"You of all people should know that's not true."

"Isn't it?" he said, propping himself up on one elbow, "What good have the laws done us in Gotham? The mob runs amok, everyone who can afford to now lives outside the city limits, and the ones who can't are afraid to go outside after dark. And it took a masked vigilante dressed as a bat to show us how far we'd sunk. He accomplished more in a month than my father had in his entire career, all because he doesn't obey the law. If I was half the man he is, I would have exterminated every last one of them." he bit off each word, his lips drawn back as if he was snarling. Melanie could feel his muscles tense beneath her, as if he would throw her off and begin the crusade single handedly.

"Batman doesn't kill," she whispered

"But I would," he said. Melanie stiffened, "If they hurt you, I would."

"No. You're better than that, I know you are," she said.

"Am I?" said Jeffery, raking his free hand through his hair, "Sometimes I feel like there's another side of me. Just now, and once when I was... when those four co-workers at the labs made rude jokes about me and my old man, I felt it. I've always tried to be good, to do the right thing by ignoring them even when it was hard. But sometimes I feel it, this rage, like there's another side of me that I've locked away. The side that could hurt, torture... kill."

"Jeffery, everyone has those thoughts," Melanie was saying, pulling him from his contemplation, "We all wonder what would happen if we gave in, if we took the law into our own hands. That's what makes us human," she placed a light kiss on his cheek, "But it's not what makes us good. What makes us good is not giving in to those voices, believing that reason and justice will win in the end. And I know you are a good person. You're the son of Harvey Dent, Gotham's White Knight and formerly known as Two-Face." somehow, she managed to say it with total conviction, without a trace of irony.

He chuckled. "What does that make you? My squire?"

"Right now, whatever you want me to be," she said, snuggling into his shoulder and placing a a quick line of kisses from his collarbone, up the arch of his neck to his lips. There she dallied quite a bit longer, until they were both panting and breathless.

"I don't know what it is about you, Annie, but around you I..." Jeffery said, the creases now gone from his forehead. A faint flush colored his cheeks.

"Mmm?"

"Around you I feel... like a better person, like I can forget that darker side exists."

"Well then I'd better stick around then, so Evil Jeff doesn't come and get you, hmm?" Melanie said with a trace of mischief.

"Evil Jeff?" Jeffery laughed, "What kind of name is that?"

Melanie never did give him an answer, but as the night wore on, Jeffery wasn't one to complain.

The room was dark save for the light shining in from the bathroom, and the flickering faces on the muted television. The two figures were dancing closely, slowly side to side, more of a comforting sway than a rigorous dance. Jeffery had his arms slung around her hips, his hands clutching the small of her back. Melanie's head was against his chest, her breaths slow against his bare chest. She almost looked as if she were dancing in her sleep, save for the smile that played on her lips.

Drifting over from the corner, the warm beats from one of Jennifer Hudson's songs weaved their way in and out of their dance. The walls of their place were still blank, seeing as how they'd only moved in together a couple of weeks ago. Of course they'd been too busy to unpack, so Jeffery had stacked the boxes in one of their linen closets. The end result was a very clean, bare apartment.

Jeffery didn't really want to break this silence, this tiny little moment of peace they'd carved out of their hectic lives. It was so rare that he hated to be the one to end it. But he'd been trying to figure out how to ask her for a week now, and he never neglected his intuition. He took a slow breath, his eyes focused at some unseen point on the bare white wall.

"Annie?"

"Mmm?"

Was she asleep? He hoped to God that she wasn't, it would make this all the more awkward. He paused a moment to verify with himself that he could do this. "Can I ask you a question?"

She sighed deeply, "You know what my answer is, Jeffery." Her smile broadened, and her eyes cracked open mischievously. 'Damn it,' he hated the way she knew him so well. His father could bluff a convict into telling his secrets, get mob bosses to give up their guns, and even talk nut jobs out of shooting civilians. But negotiating Melanie was a completely different field.

"Well you can't blame me for asking can you?" He squeezed her tight, trying to ignore the disappointment.

"Well, no, I guess not. But honestly Jeffery, I'm not going to change my mind so quickly." She grinned up at him, her eyes flashing in the television light.

Jeffery chuckled, "You might! You're pretty fickle you know. I mean, just look at how you used to flirt with Terrence McGinnis..."

"Hey!" She smacked him on the butt. "I can't believe you bring up Terry of all people..." Melanie went to sit down on the bed, drinking from a nearby bottle of water. Her big white T-shirt was way too big for her, even too big for Jeffery actually. It came down to her knees, making the words 'Gotham...' look more like a signpost.

Jeffery laughed. "Well he used to have his eyes on you, and don't think I don't see it." He nodded at her knowingly as if he's just made some pivotal conclusion in court.

Melanie rolled her eyes and strolled into the bathroom. "Yea, yea. Well it's not my fault you don't have any crazy admirers like I do."

"Yes it is – you scare them all away!" Jeffery smiled at her laughter. He started flipping through the channels looking for something on TV that didn't have his father's face on it. Ron Burgundy was doing a special on the city's lack of organization, CNN had a piece on today's psychotic murderers, and even the BBC was taking interviews with survivors of a virus outbreak from last year. Sometimes Jeffery found it daunting being in his own shoes.

Melanie started humming to herself as she combed her hair. Jeffery sighed, giving up on TV and leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows, when something caught his eye. It was faint, but Jeffery knew to trust his instincts in this city. The flutter of a cape right on their balcony, he was sure of it. He got to his feet quickly, steeling himself in case he needed to fight. To his surprise, the door outside was unlocked. He felt his heart lurch slightly as he went out onto the balcony looking side to side, and then above him. Melanie always told him they needed a gun in this house, and now he was starting to think she was right.

Across the street, two buildings down, Jeffery caught sight of him. His pointed ears were momentarily silhouetted against a neon billboard. Then a second later he was gone, leaving no trace that he'd ever been here. Jeffery was dumbfounded. 'Why the hell was he here? What did he want?' Jeffery must have looked just as incredulous as he felt, because he jumped when Melanie touched his arm.

"Jeffery! What happened?"

"I thought I saw..." Jeffery paused in mid-sentence, staring at the long umbrella Melanie was holding in her hands. "What is that for?"

Melanie ignored him, leaning over the railing and looking up along the side of the building searching for any sign of the intruder. "Which way did he go?"

"Annie," Jeffery sighed, wondering how his feisty girlfriend could have ever been attacked by anyone last year. As resourceful as she was, he always imagined her finding a crowbar to beat whoever with in the bowels of Arkham Asylum.

Somehow he wrestled the umbrella away from her without getting too severely smacked with it, though removing the weapon certainly didn't keep her from being furious. "You know you're probably the only guy in the world that thinks that a woman shouldn't keep a weapon!"

"That's not it at all," Jeffery put the umbrella back against the wall. "I just know you'd likely knock out one of Bat's eyes and suddenly we have complete chaos in the streets."

Melanie leaned up suddenly from leaning over the balcony, "What was that?"

"Well I mean you were wielding it like a baseball bat or something..."

"No, I mean who did you say was here?" Melanie walked up closer, her eyes stern.

"What, Bats? Oh that's just the nickname Aunt Barbara and my old man came up with..."

"You mean to tell me Batman was here? On our balcony?" her voice had raised quite quickly, and Jeffery could see her face getting red with anger.

"Well yes, I think so, I mean I didn't see much of him..."

Melanie suddenly seemed very upset, and for the life of him Jeffery couldn't figure out why. She slowly went back inside, sat down on the edge of the bed, and folded in her arms. Jeffery followed her cautiously, locking the door behind him and smiling as he turned to her again. "I don't think it's that bad, Annie. I mean, I'm sure Bats has seen plenty of partially clothed women before."

She turned to glare at him so quickly, her mouth agape in amazement. "Damn it, Jeffery!" The tears were trickling down her face and she rushed into the bathroom, this time slamming the door behind her.

Jeffery sighed and laid back down on the bed, resigning himself to flipping through channels again. One minute he was proposing marriage, and the next she was slamming doors on him. More and more his life seemed like one big random mess, and he was running out of ideas on how to sort it out. He came across one station that was playing footage of the Jokerz gang who were smiling casually into the security cameras. 'It must be nice to be so carefree,' he thought.

Lunch is in a surprisingly quiet upscale deli a few blocks away from Jeffery's new apartment. Lightly inoffensive jazz plays in the background, and the loudest noises come from silverware hitting and scraping plates. They aren't the only two people here, but it's after two, and the deli has settled into that post-lunch/pre-dinner quiet.

The sandwich called Cordon Bleu that Jeffery ordered was a premium chicken, ham and melted cheese enveloped in a crispy golden coating and tucked securely between a lightly grilled hoagie sandwich bun. The chicken was excellent. Jeffery eats his sandwich almost precisely the way he always did. Just a little faster. A little more focused. Melanie tries not to.

Jeffery finishes his sandwich and dabs at his mouth with the napkin, takes a sip of his iced tea, and frowns at his plate.

Melanie knows exactly how quiet, how watchful she has been, and wonders how much longer she can keep it up before Jeffery... notices any more than she already does.

"So. I'm curious, Annie."

"Hmm?"

"You were never all that *much* for small talk, but..." A pained look. "Is it me?"

"I..." And she has to think about that for much, much too long. On the one hand, Ten had allowed Melanie to mature considerably over the years. The reputation as flighty, perpetually eligible woman had been well-established, after all. On the other hand...

"I'm not sure." So much more honest than she wants it to be.

Jeffery nods at her. "Do you... do you have any questions? I... I'll tell you anything, you know. I just want..."

"It's hard."

"I just want to make it easier. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

'I'm afraid,' is what Ten doesn't say. She isn't sure if she would. She isn't sure, at all.

She watches Jeffery's hand move slowly across the table, and doesn't flinch when it covers her own, warm and callused and large. "I want you, Annie," he says again.

"More than I know how to say."

Melanie swallows, and turns her hand palm-upward, clasping Jeffery's. Holds it tight.

He remembered another time before he became the scarred criminal, he went to a restaurant called the Jade Palace with her. He wore an old powder-blue suit before setting out for the evening. It's the best suit his father owns as he offered her his left arm, which she graciously accepted. A waitress greets them with a curtsey, then scampers to clean off a table, grinning like a fool. Small wonder she's so happy, it hasn't taken the help long to notice which kind of customers give better tips.

A portly man in a tuxedo walks up to him, his mustache thin enough to have been drawn on. "Ah! Evening, Mr. Dent. Wonderful to see you again!"

"Basil," he says, and nods to the manager named Basil Fawlty.

"Here for a meal tonight, or something from our special menu, perhaps?" he suggested.

"Your cooks make a fine roast duck, Basil, but it's not what I keep coming back for."

"Very good, sir." A smirk ghosts over Basil's mouth. "Would you prefer something in seafood or steak?"

"Why not," he says with a shrug. "And something for my date as well." he smiles.

"Very well sir, right this way." he made a gestured to follow him.

He leaned in and whispered, "You look amazing tonight." Melanie smiled at him in gratitude for the compliment. She gave him a light kiss on his cheek and they were lead to a table, a french waiter brought them their meals and set them on the table after they told him what they ordered on the menus, "For madam, Lobster a la Breche and for Monsieur, Rare London broil, with baby potatoes and fresh greens."

"Thank you Andre. I'm starving let's eat." He tells her as she picks up a rose from a vase and smells it with her nose and looks at him. "Shouldn't we wait for your friend?" she asked.

"Gomez? Nah he's always late. He's probably hung up on business." He assures her.

"I hear he's a ladies man." she smiles at him.

"Yeah, Gomez runs around like he was part of the high class crowd." he chuckles, "But he manages to get his kicks. There's nothing that we don't know about each other." He leans in close to her, "I think you'll like him."

She wraps both of her arms around his arm, "If he's your friend, I know I will."

Then his friend and fellow colleague named Gomez Addams arrived at the table. He was dressed in a chalk-striped, dark-colored suit with a necktie, sports a slicked-back hair and a pencil-thin moustache. He apologised for his lateness as he sat down, orders his meal, and begins to tell Melanie about his friend's life story. "You should have seen Jeffery's face." he finished his story, as all three of them share a laugh over after-dinner coffee, Melanie notices the watch on her wrist and says to her lover, "Oh look at the time. I have to run."

Jeffery looks at her with a shocked expression, "So soon?"

"I'm sorry, I have an early meeting tomorrow but you stay."

Jeffery was hurt by her words, "No..."

Melanie smiles at him when he gave her his puppy dog look, "I insist. Spend some time with your crazy friend and call me the minute you get home, Doctor."

Before leaving, she grabs Jeffery and plants a deep passionate kiss. She held it for as long as she could, allowing him a chance to enjoy every moment of it. Jeffery had over time begun enjoying this, returning the kiss as passionately and softly as Melaine gave. She pulled back enough to see her lover's brown eyes. Everything about him was other worldly, especially those eyes of his. "I'll call you." He says to her.

"Good. Nice meeting you Gomez." she says to Jeffery's friend.

"Same here." he replied back.

As she walks out, every man's eyes in the restaurant follows her as she was in a black and white dress she wore that hugged her curves well. Made of the most Luxurious fabric, this dress is sure to impress. The dress itself was backless and offered a tantalizing view of her assets to any who looked. She defiantly would get her lover's attention and she looked stunning.

"So, what do you think?" Jeffery asked his friend.

Gomez turns his head to face his friend as he took a sip of his coffee, "Does she have a sister?"

Jeffery shakes his head, "Nope Melanie's one of a kind. That's why I asked her to marry me."

Gomez spits out his coffee and is surprised by his friend's annoucement, "WHAT?"

"Yep. That's the page-one headline." Jeffery assures his friend that he's in love.

Gomez chuckled at the news, "Jeff, you just met her last week."

He smiled, "And I already know she's the one."

"Marriage is a major step man, don't you think you're rushing it?" He questioned him.

"No way, the moment I laid eyes on Melanie, love hit me right in the face." He smirked at his friend.

"Now Jeffery, about your engagement to Melanie Walker. We're good friends right?" he questioned as Jeffery nods with agreement.

"I have to be honest with you, don't I?" Jeffery nods again to his friend. "Okay then, I think Melanie is wrong for you." He told him that.

Jeffery felt sadness, rage, and oddly after all those flashes of emotion passed. He felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Jeffery wasn't sure what of those feelings were his and what was caused by Two-Face. But he figured the rage, and when the nothingness came and claimed him it was because of his darker half. Though every now and again he started to feel jealous again.

No... No that was a Two-Face way of thinking. Not his. But if his other half decides to go with it, there was nothing he could do. Two-Face had become the dominate personality. But he hoped that no matter what that half decided to do. That he wouldn't hurt Melanie. But... he wondered to himself, why does it matter if anything was to happen to her? After all... she deserved judgment."

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist with the coin still in it. The metal rubbing harshly against his palm, a slight throbbing sensation starting. That woman. Melanie, he loved her. He honestly and truly did. But Two-Face had turned his back on her and left. When Jeffery took control and tried to go to see her all those years ago to talk to her and try to seek help, she had worked with The Batman to try to bring him in. She betrayed him! The biting pain of betrayal still in his mind. No woman, no human, can understand him. That much was obvious.

"Who can understand the pain of not being yourself and yet... being totally aware of it. And... in a way still be yourself? No one will understand you Jeff..." A growling voice said to the man.

Jeffery dropped the coin as he reached his hands up to his head his fingers twisted into his hair tightly. A voice that only he can hear, the voice of Two-Face.

"I'm aware of that," Jeffery thought, "you don't have to rub it in."

"Even if you are aware of it... you still have hope somewhere in your heart that one day someone will understand you. That someone will help you get rid of me. And that you can atone for what I've done to you and to the city." The grizzly voice chuckled in his head.

"I know that is what you think and feel. You can't hide it from me. I know everything that you do and I can feel all that you feel. You feel alone, you feel estranged. Don't Jeff. After all you aren't alone. I'm here." Jeffery could feel Two-Face smiling crookedly inside him as Jeffery writhed at the words. "I'm here, and I understand you."

Two-Face laughed a ringing gritty laugh that only Jeffery could hear. Jeffery continued to pull at his hair as he clenched his eyes shut, the eye on his disfigured half shut as well as it would. He wanted the laughing to stop it wanted it all to stop. But it wouldn't. It never will. He knew his other half would always hold him back no matter how hard he tried to break free. He still tries, and he has been slowly gaining ground. His Godfather Bruce Wayne was a big help. Knowing that Bruce was there supporting him, helped him a lot.

As he opened his eyes the real Jeffery Dent slipped away. Two-Face once more in control. He reached out an picked up the discarded coin and flipped it around between his fingers. Then he flipped the coin up into the air and caught it. He let out a low chuckle of amusement.

"What a pansy you are Jeff." The alter ego said "But I'm thankful you are, or I would never have it so easy. So let's just keep it that way, we have a good thing going after all. So why ruin it?" He smiled evily.

"Tell me something, do you always talk to yourself?" a new voice enter the frey as Two-Face looked up to see another young man stood infront of his cell. He was alone, and a quick look revealed he was unarmed. He was dressed in business causal attire that complimented his firm, athletic body. The short sleeves of his polo showed off the breath of his chest and the bulging muscles of his arms, and the snug khakis revealed a trim waist and muscular legs. He had pitch black hair and brilliant blue eyes. Two-Face recognized him as his Godfather's helper as he couldn't help but smirk. "Terrence McGinnis, At last we meet. Face to face to face so to speak."

He went to the glass panel of his cell to face the young man who stood on the other side. "You picked an appropriate day to finally visit Terrence, I was looking forward to meeting you. Melanie had told me all about you before I became what I am."

"I heard alot about you too Jeffery, Mr. Wayne wants to help you like he did with your father. You could get plastic surgery. Rebuild your life and..." Before he could finish Two-Face cuts him off. "Don't kid yourself. The scars are a little more than skin deep, besides I know all about your juvenile record."

Terry didn't flinch when he brought up his past. "Maybe. But you don't know a thing about me."

Two-Face was surprised by this and laughs, "YOU? What's to know? You're a punk! A rank amateur! An errand boy trying to correct his mistakes by taking orders from a senile old man."

Terry was not amused by it, "That may be true but let me ask you this, how does it feel to destroy all the light and life that comes near you, Jeffery?"

Two-Face shrugs, "It's a living."

"I'd say you're dying - a little bit - everyday - from the inside out." Terry told him flatly

Two-Face scoffs, "Is that your professional opinion Dr. Mcginnis?"

"Mr. Wayne thought there was something left of your father to salvage when he was Two-Face and he wants to do the same thing with you. But I on the other hand don't believe there's anything except evil in that black soul of yours. I don't think 'Two-Face' is apropos. All I see is one face, and it's completely scarred over."

Two-Face smirks again at the boy, "Oh I beg to differ, but would you like to know what I see?"

Terry crosses his arms on his chest. "Sure Jeffery, what do you see?"

"I see you as a heartbreaker who breaks not one, but TWO hearts. The first girl was Dana Tan, the Asian-American teenager, a very sweet and understanding girl, but is also quite independent. Her father disapproved of the relationship, because of your checkered background, but you worked hard to prove his worth. Dana was very attatched to you, Terrence, but she hasn't seen much of you lately, ever since you started working for Bruce Wayne. She moved on, now that you never had any time for her."

Terry this time flinched when he brought up the name of his ex-girlfriend as Two-Face continued, "Oh it gets better, The second girl was Melanie Walker, I know that you and her had a fling for a short time but on that night when she was approached by Batman reguarding that Paxton Powers kidnapping, she denied any involvement in the ordeal, assuring him that she didn't exist for her family. Before he took off, Melanie asked him if he ever gave her note to you. Batman told her you got it, but in the end she disappointedly concluded that she didn't exist to you either."

Terry was stung by Two-Face's words of truth, there was no deniying it. He was growling with anger. He was beyond anger upon hearing what Two-Face said. If only he could say what his night job was. Then maybe Two-Face would get it. But he couldn't do that. "You have no idea what they ment to me. What kind of influence they had on my life." Terry stared Two-Face straight in the eye. "You're right about one thing, I wasn't there for them. But if they hadn't given me guidance and shown me difference between true justice and revenge. I would be just like you but I'm not the one on the other side of the glass panel."

Two-Face chuckles, "Too ture, but then again you were a cheap hood who got off with a slap on the wrist. Am I right, Tiny Terry?"

Terry had enough of this, "I hope you rot in here Jeffery, cause frankly you belong with the freaks." as he left Two-Face's cell and Two-Face yelled back at Terry. "Fool! Jeffery Dent is dead. The whole time you were speaking to - TWO-FACE!"

End of Flashback...

The man gets up from the bench and walks away from City Hall to where a limo was parked, Two blond haired girls were waiting for him, thier names Delia and Deidre Dennis a.k.a. the Dee-Dee twins, the grandaughters of Dr. Harleen Francis Quinzel aka Harley Quinn. They followed in their grandmother's footsteps as 'hench-wenches' of the original Joker once but now they serve The Duke of Duality himself.

Delia, wore a lace shoulderless, long-sleeved shirt with a silver mini skirt. While Deidre, wore a black lace up corset top with hanging tails and a black dress with splits raising up her waist. "What's the problem baby?" Delia told to her boss as he looked at the ground. "Yea, what's the matter with you?" Her twin asked. Two-Face looks at both of them and sighs, "I wanted to apologise for what my Father did to your Grandmother when she worked for him in the past."

Both Dee-Dee's kissed him on his cheeks and wrapped their arms around him, "It's ok baby, Nana Harley told us about that time. We won't betray you cause you are the most schway boss ever." Deidre stated as her twin nodded with agreement.

"Thanks girls, it really means alot to me, now let's go home." as he and the twins got into the limo and drove off.

To be continued...


	3. Urban Legends

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 3: Urban Legends

Author's Notes: Wow, again 8 reviews? what gives? O_o We put so much effort in this and only get 8? Come on people you can do better then that.

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Room 539, Gotham University

"Tired, Mr. McGinnis?" George Feeny inquired, tapping on Terry's desk. History was a normally interesting class or at least interesting enough to keep a person's attention for a good forty-five minutes, if the teacher was lucky. But, like many college students Terry was able to sleep during any class as long as he had one book to rest his head on and another to block his face.

"Hrrrm?" Terry replied, grogilly, his blue eyes barely making contact with the florescent school lighting. Mr. Feeny came into focus above his shoulder, however, he became aware of where he was and quickly straightened up.

"Nice of you to make time for us in your 'busy' schedule," Mr. Feeny continued, "Mr. McGinnis."

As he settled into sitting position, Terry let his mind wander out off the current lecture about the tacts used by the Duke of Marlborough to win the Battle of Blenheim in 1704 and onto the more important ravels of his mind. It was as close to sleep as he could get at that time.

It had been a docile afternoon when the sixth bell rang to break the silence, and with it came the hustle and bustle of the last of the day class students to their respected modes of travel.

Skybuses, hovercars and cycles alike all made clear exists from the parking lot as many evening and straggler students stayed behind to talk.

Terry slung a few books into his locker, slammed it shut and dove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Just as he began walking away, the sound of footsteps approached him.

"Terry!" An attractive African American girl with short dyed pink hair named Max said while running up to greet him. She put her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek softly. "I'm glad I found you. I couldn't get to you all day, and I heard how out of it you were in History." Terry blushed, but didn't answer her but gave a nod, acknowledging her gossip. She looked at him with a sly smile.

"Price of being the man in black," Max said, laughing, "So I was thinking... we go downtown tonight? I hear there's a schway rave going on tonight."

"You know how it is, Max. Mr. Wayne," Terry replied, before Max cut him off.

"...has you 'working' until late right?" She finished for him. Terry nodded in agreement.

"Alright." She said, defeated. "But you're gonna make it up to me tomorrow ok?" Without giving him a chance to answer, she planted another kiss on his cheek and bolted for the exit.

"Whatever." Terry continued down the hall at his slow pace, ready for the weekend, and even more ready to get to work.

It had been months of terror, that had penetrated Gotham to it's very soul, it was a time when good and evil alike in, Gotham fearing the coming of the night. As the hands of the clock struck midnight Commissioner Gordon did something hadn't been done in years. She lit the old bat signal and hoped against hope it'd be answered by the right person. She knew full well what the police department felt about Batman, but she had to. She had to hope, even if it cost her her job. In a way Barbara found the light strangely suthing, as her mind drifted back to days long ago, back when she was young and had answered the signal herself along with Nightwing, Robin, and the original Batman.

'Maybe that's why I'm so hard on him,' Barbara thought to herself, 'I guess I just miss the thrill of being Batgirl.'

"You know, you could have just called." a familiar voice said from behind her. Barbara's face grew hard and cold, as she watched Batman walk out of the shadows.

Barbara simply sighed as she turned the old signal off. The suit Batman wore had a cape, solid black, with a silver utility belt and a blood red bat symbol stretched across the chest. Though he looked like Batman, the truth was he was Terry McGinnis, the new Batman. He was as brave as the old Batman ever was, living up to the legacy the first Batman had created while forging a new one for himself.

"I know you know where to find us," Batman said, "Barbara."

"That's Commissioner Gordon to you kid," Barbara fixed her glasses. "Make no mistake, if you call me by my first name again, I will nail you to the wall. Unfortunately I need your help in a certain case that seems to be consuming both of our times," she took a cigarette out of her pocket and lit it. She took a long drag, closing her eyes and trying to push the horrors of the previous few months, and of fifty years ago out of her mind. Then again Batman wasn't one to stay silent for long.

"Trouble at the first bank, Commissioner?" Batman asked, crossing his arms. Barbara silently nodded stuffing her one hand into her pocket.

"Looted," Barbara replied, "every dollar of cash cleaned out. Night guard killed, slaughtered, as if he'd been ripped apart by some wild animal. No sign of forced entry all doors still locked, and only the vault alarm went off. However nobody there by the time response arrived."

"Then how did the thief get in and out?" Batman inquired

"Thief and murderer," she corrected him as she turned her back to him, "Tunnel in the bank's basement, leading to a sewer line. I'd send some of my people down there but..." she turned around only to find Batman gone. "Already gone, sometimes I wonder how dad was able to put up with it, when it was Bruce in that suit." She smiled as she flicked her cigarette butt off the roof.

Location: Gotham Sewer

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Batman commented as he climbed down the ladder and dropped into the water as he landed in the sewage that went up to his knees. Before long he was looking for the killer thief that Barbara informed him about. The waters' surface was slicked with oil and other runoff from the street above, the seweres' lights had long been in need of repair, but there was never enough in the city budget to cover the repairs. Batman engaged the xenon-powered beams, which were built into his cowl, and look around the darkened room.

"About what?" Bruce replied in the com.

"Just in general like say an Urban Legend about Alligators in the Sewers," Batman said, he let out a sigh, "I'm being paranoid, aren't I?"

"Probably not," Bruce replied, with a wry humor tingeing his voice, "Not counting the few mistakes, your instincts are usually on the mark."

Batman grimaced at his mentor's humor.

"Gee, thanks," Batman replied, "I needed a good chuckle." Thick slime covered the bricks beneath the calf-deep water, ensuring that Batman would definitely have to watch his step. He smiled grimly, thinking he'd have to thank his boss, once again, the imperviousness of his thick-soled, waterproof boots and Kevlar armor. The vintage sewer pipes in this part of Downtown were brick and mortar, installed during the the early 1850s, during a building boom when the original bank was also under construction.

Here and there, patches of cement showed against the curved brick wall, places where sewer-maintenance workers had mended leaks and cracks, but, for the most part, the old storm drains appeared to have held up well through the ensuing centry and a half. Gotham's old sewer system had been an engineering marvel back in the 20th Century, but now it was a work in progress, being brought up to modern standards. It consisted of nearly 6000 miles of mains and pipes, the shapes, materials, and sizes of which varied wildly. Nearly 60% of that vast, mostly invisible underground network was made up of combined sewers that used to carry runoff from storms as well as wastes from sinks, tubs and toilets, before the old sewers were abandoned in favor of the modern ones.

Most of the time, the contents flowed toward the old treatments plants on Gotham's south side. But when huge storms hit Gotham, as they had for the past week, the water rose too rapidly for the crumbling plants and the old sewers to handle the influx, resulting in thousands of gallons of untreated trash, chemicals, and raw sewage spilling into Gotham's rivers and bays. For years, Gotham had debated the construction of underground reservoirs where the overflow could be held for treatment, or expanding the city's more modern sewers into the old historic system however political and environmental wrangling had stalled the project. Personally Terry thought if the Gotham Waste Water Reclamation Project ever got going, it would make Boston's Big Dig of the late 20th and early 21st Centuries look like a walk in the park.

The only good news, at least from Batman's perspective was that the swiftly flowing current from recent storms had left the mains he traverse in relatively clean condition. They stank, but for now the stench was bearable. He could hear the thump thump of cars, cycles and the occasional louder thump of trucks as they bounced of over the manhole cover, he could also feel the heat generated by the anti-gravs on hover cars as they flew over the manhole.

He switched off the xenon lights and, for the moment, was enveloped in darkness. In the pitch black, his other senses sharpened. The sounds of moving water echoed softy around him in the endless tunnels. The smells-- damp brick, salt water, decay, mixed with the smell of decaying flesh from the occasional dead rat-- seemed more intense. In many ways it was another world down here.

"Ya know," the Tomorrow Knight said, over his comlink, "this reminds me of the time I had to rescue my ex-girlfriend Dana from that rat guy, and boy it really stinks down here." he had to plug his nose from the horrid stench of the sewers. "There's no branching tunnels yet, I got no other choice here, so this must be an escape route, do you see anything boss?"

"Unless our killer thief exited the sewer system through a manhole to the street or..." Before Bruce had the chance to continue, Batman cut him off.

"Wait I see something over there," Batman replied

"What is it Terry?" Bruce asked as Batman went to the large brown bag of money lying in the middle of nowhere on the ledge near the water.

"It's a canvas sack on the ledge, but why would the killer thief abandoned the looted cash here in the middle of..." before he could finish something shot out of the water and grabbed hold of Batman's foot and dragged him into the water. As Batman recovered, he got a good look at the huge creature and his eyes went wide.

The creature was none other then the infamous Waylon Jones, better known to the Gotham public by his old stage name: Killer Croc. He wasn't any normal Criminal. A genetic disorder called epidermolytic hyperkeratosis had given him the appearence of a Humanoid Crocodile. He stood six feet and nine inches tall, and weighed five hundred lbs, four hundred and eighty lbs being solid muscle. Over the years his disorder had become far worse, changing his face to that of a crocodile. He had Crocodile-like eyes, with pupils that were slits and Crocodile-like ears which were little more then slit openings on the top of his head. He also had a long narrow snout. His mouth was filled with big razor sharp teeth each of which were two inches long making them look very sharp.

He was very muscular, with muscles buldging from everywhere. He had huge hands that has a thumb and four fingers with very long claws and also huge feet with four toes that also had sharp claws as well. He also possessed a five foot tail, and was covered from head to toe with Crocodile like scales.

"Whoa, I guess that Urban Legend was true after all." was all Batman could say, he felt his heart leap into his throat, he'd heard Bruce talk about his confronatations with Killer Croc in the past, and he'd even fought a robot version of Killer Croc but he never once suspected that the real Killer Croc himself was still alive after all this time.

"Been a long time Batman," Killer Croc said, grinning, "my how you've changed, as ya can see so have I. The money's mine and I need it." With that he lunged at Batman, who was bearly able to dodge the blow from the monster. He wasn't as lucky the second time, catching Croc's fist right to his face. Batman recovered from the blow as he wiped the blood from his mouth. "You need more then money Lizard lips and I need a weapon before..." Without warning Killer Croc's tail slammed Batman to the nearest wall as he went up to Batman and gave him a bear hug trying to squeeze the life out of him.

"The money's for an operation, an operation that will finally cure me of this accursed disease, YA HEAR!! I'm sick of being a freak." Croc snarled at The Tommorow Knight.

"Then you need more then a operation," Batman replied, "You need a world class miracle. Surrender and I'll see that you get..." Before he could finish, Killer Croc roared at the Tommorow Knight. "SHUT UP!!"

"You shut up," Batman replied, as he used one of his retractable claws to slash Killer Croc's left eye.

Killer Croc roared in pain as Batman broke free from his grip. Batman delivered several punches to the monster, but his punches had no effect on the creature.

"No effect," Batman said, over his intercom, "even with the suit's strength, his hide's too tough, got to find some other way to put him down. Any suggestions, boss?"

Bruce frowned as he grunted at what he was seeing through the Bat-Computer.

"It's hard to believe that Waylon Jones is still alive after all these years... try to distract him and use his anger against him." Bruce replied.

"Oh yea," Batman said, "Cause dodging him will be easy." He jumped and landed behind Killer Croc, who had rushed at him. The monster turned toward him and let out a mighty roar.

"Stop moving!" Croc snarled. Croc charged toward the Tomorrow Knight. Before Croc had a chance to deliver his blow Batman jumped out of the way, just as he threw a batarang at Killer Croc.

"Not a chance lizard breath!" Batman said, before Batman had a chance to finish his statement, he watched as Croc grabbed the batarang and crumbled it as though it was made of tin foil.

"That's not good," Batman said to himself.

"Ya won't escape me," Croc snarled, as he lunged toward Batman, "Not this time."

Batman waited for just the right moment and then jumped over Killer Croc, who slammed into the wall and, breaking through to the chamber on the other side. Killer Croc slowly stood up but felt dizzy.

"Gotta keep hitting him hard..." Batman muttered before he ran forward and jumped in the air to deliver a kick to Killer Croc's face.

Before his foot could connect with the monster, Killer Croc grabbed Batman around the torso, forcing him backward. Killer Croc's teeth raked the side of Batman's pertective cowl, but slid off the slick surface, and ripped a row of searing furrows across his protective cheek to reveal circuitry. Killer Croc's teeth eventually settled on Batman's throat.

"The cowl was tough." Batman told himself. "Killer Croc would never break through. He just had to..."

"Yer bones will snap. Yer blood will fill my belly. I'm gonna eat ya alive!" He snarled at Batman as he threw his massive body against Batman, toppling him backward into the dark pool.

As the water closed over Batman's head, he heard Bruce's voice yelling in his ear. "Terry, what's happening? What's going on?"

Batman, submerged in that cesspool, was in no position to tell him. For the monment he struggled againest the living weight pressing down on his chest. And then he understood. A crocodile gobbled up its small quarry, but it grabbed its large prey, jerked it underwater, and rolled over on it, holding its struggling victim beneath the surface until it drowned. Only then did the croc begin to tear off chunks of flesh.

Killer Croc pattened his attacks on the creatures that had earned him his nickname. Batman's uitlity belt was loaded with weapons he might have used againest his attacker, but Killer Croc's body blocked his access. He held his breath, pulled up his legs, and kicked up at Killer Croc with all his might. The blow landed on his skin, which was as slipery as moss covored rock, and skidded off. Strong as he was, Batman couldn't get any leverage againest the slick, hard hide.

He was forced even deeper. Killer Croc was a weight on his chest. He had to find a weapon--any weapon--that would force Croc away from him. He felt around the bottom of the pool. His gloved fingers burrowed though mud, slit, and slime, then closed on something hard and rounded, it was the head of an old railroad spike from the old Gotham Subway.

He tugged at the spike as it slid off from the ground into his hand. He prayed the spike itself wouldn't crumble into dust when he tried to use it. He swung the pointed spike as hard as he could and buried it, like a dagger, in Killer Croc's side. The monster's mouth opened-- a shocked, silent scream-- and suddenly Batman was free of the smothering bulk. He lunged upright, gasping for air, swinging his head left and right, searching for the monster. But the water around him slowly stilled. Nothing moved.

Had he killed the monster, or was Killer Croc just lying in wait for him? Then a body rose from the water, it was Killer Croc, fortunatly he was knocked out. Batman went to check if he was still alive so he could bring him to the police. Lucky for him, he found a pulse on the him.

"Terry! What's going on?" Bruce's voice had been there all that interminale time he was under water, Batman relized, just another meaningless roaring in his ears.

Now it became distincetive once again. A human voice. Bruce's voice.

"I took care of Gatorade, he's ready to be taken to the cops." He told him.

"Good work Terry. I'll have Barbara send over a SWAT team along with her Major Crimes Unit detectives... and a prison van with the heaviest shackles they've got." Bruce congraulated his student.

"I'll say," Batman replied, "I think I prefer beating up Big Time or Two-Face II over this guy." Batman paused for a moment mentioning his former friend Charlie 'Big Time' Bigelow who was the loudmouth hoodlum who got involved with the wrong crowd, and eventually betrayed him after he mutated into a super strong freak due to the effects of an experimental hormone called Cerestone. He looked over to see Killer Croc moving slightly.

"She'd better hurry, I don't know how long it will take Godzilla here to revie, and she'd needs to have him hog-tied before that happens." Batman stated with a hint of concern.

"Her team is on their way." Bruce confirmed.

The Gotham City Police Department SWAT team arrived in several heavy vehicles three minutes later. By the time, a Caucasian female with brown eyes, long dark brown hair that was done up in a pony tail, and typically dressed in blue jeans, black t-shirt, a red blouse of jacket and black sneakers named Detective Darcy Alcana. A gorgeous piece of work, with high cheekbones, a toned physique, and curves that would embarrass any other woman who stood beside her. With her is an African American male with brown eyes, a shaved head, a 5 o'clock shadow beard dressed in a charcoal-gray Armani suit, a pink silk shirt with a purple tie, and expensive maroon Italian leather loafers named Detective Jesse Reese as they arrived at the scene where the SWAT team had the still-unconscious Killer Croc in wrist and ankle shackles. The MCU deals with the most serious crimes, often involving supervillains or politically sensitive cases.

Jesse and Darcy leaned againest their unmarked hover car, just inside the police barricades. Jesse's real birthname is Jesse Hawke, and his father is Al Hawke, head of a powerful crime family. When he turned 16, he was almost arrested when a police officer found traces of blood found all over the trunk of his father's car when he was driving it, his relationship with his father became estranged and Jesse dedicating his life to find justice for his father's victims. He pursuit the career within the law enforcement to atone for his family's sins. He's a career cop at the top of his game, simple and by the book. Not warming to Batman so easily, Jesse doesn't have it out personally for the Batman. As a vigilante, he's breaking the law and it's his job to capture the Batman and unmask him.

Darcy on the other hand is Chief Angel Rojas favourite P.D. person. Darcy is as physically adept as any male cop she knows. Previously head of her department in Metropolis, she transferred to Gotham looking for a challenge but she also hides a secret of her own. Whereas her partner, sees things in black and white, Darcy sees the grey in most everything, and is more willing to allow the Batman to co-exist with the Gotham P.D. In fact, she often finds herself wondering if this caped vigilante she is pursuing is actually helping the city.

Jesse watched with interest as the SWAT team began to rig a hoist over the manhole cover to bring Killer Croc to surface. The SWAT team worked with economy and discipline, their movements almost like a dance.

But Darcy, standing behind him, stared at one of the buildings. Searching its gables and roofs for a shadow she was certin was up there somewhere. A cheer went up behind, and she turned to see the trussed-up figure of Killer Croc being swung out of the manhole over onto the a strecher.

He was beginning to awaken and started to struggle with the shackles. Though the monster was clearly groggy, it took eight members of the SWAT team to manhandle him into the back of the prison van. By the time they had the door closed and locked, he was bellowing. "WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, I'LL BE FEASTING ON YER CORPSES!!"

A dozen squad cars flanked it front and back as the van moved off down the avenve amid a light show of flashing red becons, heading for New Arkham Asylum, Darcy could see that the van was rocking from side to side as it traveled down the empty roads toward the Narrows. She yawned as it had been a light night and early eastern sky was lightening, hearld the coming dawn.

As she turned to look at the departing convoy, she saw what she'd been looking for. A deep shadow passed acrosed the brick facade above Joey's Deil. It was two stories up and it was gone in a split second, but the silhouette had been unmistakably the one she's seen through the glass of Commissioner Gordon's office. She smiled to herself as she moved back toward Jesse. For just a moment, she had seen the defender of Gotham City about whom so little was know. She had finally seen The Batman.

To be continued...


	4. A New Hope

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 4: A New Hope

Author's Notes: Wow, 16 reviews, this is better then we thought. We still need more reviews (Nice ones that is, no flames) and to those who write Batman Beyond fanfics, including characters like Harley Quinn, Catwoman, The Joker, The Scarecrow and so on, could not come up with any Two-Face fanfics because you people say he is complicated. Well in our opinion he isn't, now on with the Show.

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Hoverbus - Night

Chelsea Cunningham sat alone on the hoverbus on her way to Gotham City, a bright and shining beacon of metropolitan life looming in the far horizon from the airport as she combed her fingers through her stiff, backswept blonde hair and was dressed in a black and white checkered mini dress, with high-top combat boots. Chelsea was an average student, but very popular girl from a rich family, though she did not get along well with her father. She was a cheerleader, and had several boyfriends during her school years: Mason Forrest, Rick Jackson, and later Nelson Nash.

Chelsea's attitude towards everything has landed her into trouble on several occasions. Her father first sent her to Dr. Ira Billings aka Spellbinder for counseling, but it ended worse. Spellbinder forced her to take a precious statuette from her father's art collection, and drop it in the river. The case made the news, and Arnold Cunningham used his connections to get the police to investigate it. After a chat with Spellbinder, however, Commissioner Gordon closed the case.

Chelsea was very popular with boys, even those who were way below her league. When Howard Groote got a beautiful girlfriend, however, she was interested, much to Cynthia's chagrin. She tried to push the sign of Hamilton High on top of her, but Terry delayed her. After Cynthia was revealed to be a robot, Chelsea lost interest in Howard. Her daydream was broken when someone moved into the empty seat next to her. She glanced at them for a few moments, before turning to look back out the window.

"To," the male passenger asked, "or from?" Chelsea turned to look at the man infront of her. His facial features is described as being perfect and angular—high cheekbones, strong jawline, a straight nose, and full lips. His hair, which is always messy, retains the unusual bronze shade. His eyes are brown and some might say he's 'the one with the angelic face' and is 6'1", has a slender but muscular body and wears a shorter black leather jacket, a red long-sleeved dress shirt, black trousers and black dress shoes.

"Excuse me?" Chelsea inqured

"Are you running away from something or," the man asked, "or to something?"

"I'm not," Chelsea replied, shaking her head, "I mean," the man simply smiled.

"No, it's," the man replied, "it's cool. You should be careful, though. Gotham's a big city and if you don't know anyone, it can be a dangerous city as well. By the way, I'm Jerry Austin." He held out his hand to her. She hesitated for a moment, before shaking it.

"Chelsea Cunningham," Chelsea replied.

"See," Jerry added, with a chuckle, "Now you know someone." Chelsea however wasn't paying much attention to Jerry's joke.

"To," Chelsea said, changing the subject. Jerry looked at her with a confused look to his face.

"I'm running 'To' ... or at least I hope so," Chelsea continued, "There are a couple people in Gotham that I sort of knew -- or knew about, anyway. Um, it's hard to explain."

"Well it's rare to hear someone say they're running to that viper's nest," Jerry said, "do you think they're still in the city, then again if they had any sense they would've moved out."

"I don't really know what happened to them," was all Chelsea could bring her self to say as she turned to look back out of the window and into the moonlight.

Location: Gotham City, Hoverbus Station Terminal - Night

Chelsea and Jerry made their way out of the terminal and onto the mainstreet sidewalk. Before Chelsea had a chance to speak, Jerry grabbed something from his wallet, and quickly jotted something down.

"This is..." Jerry said, handing Chelsea the paper, "the, uh, address. I'll see you tonight."

"Okay," Chelsea replied.

"Bye." They waved to each other, as Jerry turned and walked away. Chelsea took a deep breath and looked around at the Gotham skyline and smiled.

"It's gonna be different here," Chelsea said to herself, "I know it."

"Oh," a familiar voice said, from behind, "no!" Chelsea looked up and spotted a man in a Armani navy pinstripe linen-silk 3-button suit with flat front trousers and brown wingtips who was sitting on a bench, behind her. His name was Lawrence Ketterly, the part owner of Phoenix Industries, a company set up to cover the purchases of vast real estate. He stood up and looked around, Chelsea could tell by the movements of his body that he appeared to be panicking. Sitting next to him on the bench was a man completely in black - black trenchcoat, red scarf around his face, and a black fedora hat while reading a newspaper unmindful or ignoring the man panicking.

"No! No!" Larry screamed, Chelsea watched in horror as he continued to scream lept from the side of the building, into the oncoming hovertraffic.

"No!" Car horns blare as the vehicles tried to come to a stop. She watched as Larry slammed into the windshield of an oncoming hovertruck. The vehicle's driver quickly sat down on the road below and the man fell to the ground. Onlookers are shocked and gasp in terror, as Chelsea ran to help him.

"Don't move," Chelsea replied, "Just lie still." She put a hand on him to try and stop him from moving. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed her hand.

"Don't let them get me!" Larry shouted, "Don't let them get me!"

"Who's trying to get you?" Larry stopped and looked up toward the bench. Chelsea turned around to look at what Larry was talking about. Sitting on the bench was the same shaded man in a trenchcoat - expressionless although he appeared to be looking right at them. Chelsea turned to Larry and tries to get him to stand up.

"Come on," Chelsea said, trying to help Larry up.

"We didn't know what was beneath... beneath... Phoenix." With his last breath, Larry let go of Chelsea's hand, and crashed to the ground. She sat back abruptly. Stunned by what she had just experienced. The sounds of emergency sirens, broke the eerie calm that had fallen over the scene.

Slowly, Chelsea stood up. She looked across the street, directly at the man in black who was still sitting on the bench and holding the newspaper in front of him as if he were reading. He turned and looked back directly at Chelsea. He sat the newspaper down and took out a silver coin and flipped it into the air and caught it when it came down. He looked at the coin, before proceeding to make a fist over it. He looked back at Chelsea as a large tanker obstructed her vision. When the tanker had passed, the man was gone. She looks around, perplexed.

Location: Gotham City, Street - Night

Ambulances and cop cars littered the streets in the shadows of the night, flashing lights casting a red glow under the streetlamps, as Detectives Darcy Alcana and Jesse Reese interviewed Chelsea. She tries to explain who the perpetrator was to them as she leans against a car.

"I can't really describe him," Chelsea said, still shaking from what had transpired, "I never got a good look at his face."

"So you say this guy didn't push the victim?" Jesse inquired

"No," Chelsea replied, "he wasn't anywhere near him, but, um..." She hesitated.

"But what, Miss?" Jesse inquired persistantly, "You saw something, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Darcy replied, sighing, "she saw a guy on a bench."

"Come on, Darcy," Jesse replied, quietly. Darcy shot her partner a cold look, before turning and walking away as he reached into his jacket pocket and removed a business card.

"Listen," Jesse said, eyeing Chelsea with a suspicious look to his eye, "if you think of anything else at all, and I mean anything, you can reach me at this number, okay?"

"Okay," Chelsea replied, as she took the card.

"Good night Miss," Jesse said, "and I'd suggest you get home as soon as possible, Gotham's not exactly the safest city after dark." Chelsea nodded and began to walk away. Jesse turned and looked at his partner. The two are obviously at odds on this as they made their way toward the body of the businessman.

"What?" Jesse inquired, breaking the silence that had fallen over the scene.

"Don't start," Darcy replied

"Start what?" Jesse inquired

"That whole 'there's something prowling the night', that's what." she stated flatly as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Of course not," Jesse replied, sighing, "This is just your basic 'normal guy freaks out, throws himself in front of a speeding vehicle for no reason' case. Oh, it's totally routine."

"Was that sarcasm? Because you know I'm a sensitive gal." Darcy replied, "Seriously Jesse, you gotta layoff 'The Twilight Zone.' The guys are starting to talk." They made their way under the crime scene tape.

"Darcy," Jesse said, "you hear the same stories I do. You see the same things we can't even begin to explain."

"Freaks, weirdos, urban myths." Darcy replied.

"Myths are just the truth a few generations later." Jesse stated as Darcy simply sighed in defeat.

"At times you're almost as bad as the people who pulled that Joker Hoax a few years back." Darcy replied, as she watched her partner walk away.

"Come on Darcy," Jesse said as he turns around to look at her, "what are you so afraid of?"

"Being seen with you," Darcy replied, "getting carted off to the loony bin. I'm gonna make you a list." She took out her pen, as Jesse put his rubber gloves on and knelt down next to the corpse.

"There's something going on in this city after the sun goes down. I intend to find out what it is." Jesse says, determined to get to the bottom of things as he lifts up the sheet to look at the dead man underneath.

Location: Rooftop of the Gotham City Police Headquarters - Night

"This is the forth murder in two weeks," Commissioner Gordon said. "Normally I don't employ the business of..."

"Vigilantes?" Batman asked, "Even though you were one yourself back in the day."

"That was then," Barbara replied, "This is now, and for the record I don't appreciate being reminded of the past," she quickly changed the subject, "Consider this a chance to prove yourself."

"As if I haven't already?" Batman smirked

"I mean on a more rounded scale," Barbara continued "You've proven you can handle the reincarnations of insane killer clowns with control of satellite deathrays, a walking freezer, a sexist eco-terrorist who had lived for over 600 years through the use of Lazarus Pits, a crocodile from the sewers and a living Jekyll & Hyde with an insane passion for dual natures and the number two... But I'm talking 'real' detective work, kid. The kind Bruce and myself were experts at back in the day." Batman quirked an eyebrow at her in question at that.

"That's the boss's job," Batman replied

"He's not going to be around forever kid." Barbara continued, "Back in the day, Bruce was more then capable of holding his own against the worst the darkness of this city could produce, and if you plan to wear that suit, co-dependency simply won't do."

With that, Barbara turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the Tomorrow Knight stunned from what he'd just heard. Shaking his head, he jumped off the side of the GCPD building and started a dive down the hundred stories of the building. Calmly, he snapped his wings out and waited patiently for less than thirty feet under him before he spiraled and arched around to glide to the side and away. In his ear, he heard his employer speak to him.

"You're getting bold, McGinnis." The former Caped Crusader replied over the comlink.

"What can I say?" Batman replied, "It's like walking. After a while, JUST walking gets kinda boring. You wanna do more?"

"Are you going to want help on this case?" He questioned his student.

"Can I try to do it myself?" Batman replied, "She wants to see if I'm a detective."

"You're no detective." Bruce stated to his student.

"Oh gee, thank you for the faith, boss." He frowned

Location: Gotham City, Alleyway - Night

Chelsea slowly her way down the darkened alleyway looking up at the darkened buildings around her for a few seconds before turning her attention back to the slip of paper in her hand. She was still creeped out by the events of the last half hour. Behind her, someone in trousers and dress shoes followed, making sure to stay just far enough out of sight so as not to attract attention.

Chelsea glanced to the side, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following her. A shadow passed across the street behind her. Chelsea swung around to look but sees that no one was there. She turned back around and continued to head down the street. A few seconds later, she once again heard the sounds of someone following her. Chelsea swung around once again to look, only this time she bumped into Jerry.

"Oh, god. You scared me," Chelsea said, trying to catch her breath, "Um ... I thought you were... you know..."

"Dangerous?" Jerry replied seriously.

"Um... well," Chelsea continued, "it's kind of a weird place to party." Jerry remained silent as he started to advance on her. She backed up slowly, her heart racing like there was no tomorrow.

"One thing you learn about Gotham, Chelsea," Jerry said, smiling, "things are never what they seem." He shot her a sinister look and she began to get really scared. Chelsea turned around and tried to make a break. But her assailant ran after her. She ran deeper into the secluded alleyway, but Jerry still was able to catch up her, and pressed her back into the wall.

"Leave me alone!" Chelsea screamed, as she started to cry.

"Oh, come on," Jerry said, with a sadistic smile to his face, "don't be scared, Chelsea."

Before Jerry had a chance to finsih his statement something knocked him off of Chelsea. He looked up, just in time to see a masked woman standing over him. The woman was dressed in a cleavage-revealing, leg-revealing, black bodysuit with aforementioned thigh-high black boots and long black gloves. Her silver and black scorpion emblem was underneath her sizable chest. Her dark shoulder length hair was in a braid that had a silver scorpion's stinger on the end as it came from the back of her head as she is standing above him. Her lipstick was outrageous ruby and she carried a ring that was capable of emitting a blinding light.

"The lady isn't interested," the woman said. Jerry looked around and reached for an old pipe that was lying next to a building. He picked it up and swung it at the masked woman. He hit her in the stomach, but she absorbed the hit. He scrambled to his feet and hit her again.

"I was hoping," the woman said and gave him a wide grin, "you'd do something like that." Jerry swung the pipe again and costumed woman managed to easily dodge it. No matter what Jerry tried, he couldn't touch her. She easily pushed him back and he hit the wall. She fliped foward in front of him as she kicks out and slammed her boot's heel directly on his neck, pushing him against the wall and crushing his throat underneath her foot.

He barely manages to choke out a question. "Who the hell are you?"

"They call me Black Scorpion," Black Scorpion said, "and you're the prey." She released him and he slinked down to the ground.

"Warmed up yet?" Black Scorpion inquired. Jerry scrambled to his feet and ran down the alleyway toward the entrance.

"Ohh! I hate a man with no endurance," Black Scorpion said, "Really, what's the point?" She turned around to look at Chelsea who was still standing against the wall, her face alight with excitement. She slowly moved away from the wall toward Black Scorpion.

"I believe a 'thank you' is in order," Black Scorpion said, "After all it wasn't that spectacular."

"No. It's...", Chelsea said, "it's you." The look to Black Scorpion's face lost its smugness and she stared at the teenager in front of her warily.

"You're really real," Chelsea continued

"Kid," Black Scorpion replied, sighing, "you should go home." She turned to leave, but before she had a chance to, Chelsea grabed her wrist.

"Wait," Chelsea inquired, "Are you Batman's new partner?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Black Scorpion replied, with a confused look to her face, "Look it's late. There's a shelter on Durbin, a few blocks south. You should get off the streets. If anything Gotham isn't safe at night." Black Scorpion freed herself from Chelsea's grip and once again turned to leave.

"No," Chelsea said, stepping forward and blocking her path, "Wait!" Black Scorpion simply ignored her and jumped to the second floor fire escape of the nearest building. Black Scorpion paused for a few moments and looked back down at Chelsea. Chelsea watched in amazement as Black Scorpion turned and jumped to the rooftop of the building across the alleyway, and disappeared out of her sight.

Chelsea stands in the alleyway staring up at the rooftop where Black Scorpion disappeared as she smiles.

To be Continued...


	5. The Last Arkham

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 5: The Last Arkham

Author's Notes: Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews! We love them!

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Cell S3-E74 New Arkham Asylum, Gotham City

Of all the places in the futuristic metropolis known as Gotham City, there was one place that had changed in 50 years, the once gothic mansion that sat upon a lonely wind swept hill. To the people of Gotham, the mansion was a blight upon their city, a living hell where madness was the rule, a revolving door that would unleash the most dangerous minds the world had ever known almost, a hell that was capable of not only corrupting the souls of the men and women who were imprisoned within it's forboding walls, but also the men and women who made this living nightmare their place of work.

At one time it had been known as Mercey Mansion, the ancestral home of the Arkham Family, but to the people of Gotham the living hell that sat upon that windswept hill was known by a different name: The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, commonly referred to simply as Arkham Asylum. Ever since Dr. Amadeus Arkham converted his ancestral home into the nightmare that was Arkham Aslyum, the hellish facility had been a home to both the most evil beings to ever walk the Earth, and to those who succumbed to the darkness that filled the souls of Gotham City and the Aslyum, or the demons that lurked within their own hearts, including Dr. Amadeus Arkham himself. However the Old Arkham Asylum was destroyed, only to be replaced by a new and more modern facility fitted with numerous new security measures and newly designed interconnecting corridors patterned in the style of old classical labyrinths. The facility itself was dubbed New Arkham.

The tiny figure who inhabited Cell S3-E74 wasn't typical of the demons that frequetent Arkham's dark corridors, by all appearences she was a blond little 5-year-old girl, but in reality she was nearly in her 70s, but a rare disease called systemic hypolasia that had helped make a household name had made her a ghost, ignored and shunned by the public that had once adored her. Her name is Mary Louise Dahl, a former actress and star of TV program: Love That Baby, a famed TV sitcom made at Gotham Studios. In the last season of the series, Mary complained she wasn't getting enough exposure and abruptly quit. After leaving the show, she studied drama and trained to become a dramatic actress. Her first and only job as a dramatic actress was a rendition of MacBeth which was panned by the critics. Sometime after this, she attempted to revive Love That Baby and the studios turned her down. For 10 years, Mary lived as a recluse.

Upon her 30th birthday, Mary's mind snapped and plotted her revenge. She dubbed herself Baby-Doll and, with the help of her hired henchmen and her right hand woman Miriam, she kidnapped the former cast members in a convoluted attempt to restore her family. When Batman and Robin intervened, Baby-Doll sent her henchmen to go after them. Robin switched places with the last cast member, Spunky Spencer and carried a homing transmitter. After attempting to kill Batman, Baby-Doll escaped to a nearby amusement park. During the pursuit, she ended up in the house of mirrors and saw herself in a mirror, revealing her adult self and showing her how selfish she was. Batman tried to calm her down before she was sent to Old Arkham.

Years later, Baby-Doll served her time at Arkham and got work as a hotel manager. While watching a news segment on Killer Croc's latest court appearance, Baby-Doll became attracted to Croc, as she believed both of them were kindred spirits, misunderstood and shunned by society. While being transferred from Old Arkham to State Prison, Croc was freed by Doll who staged numerous thefts near water to play up the strategic advantage to Croc.

Meanwhile, Croc planned to leave Gotham City with all the stolen gains and without Baby-Doll, who found this out and planned one last heist at Mid-River Island. She secretly planned to sabotage the Island's nuclear power plant and level Gotham and its inhabitants, including Croc and herself. However, Batman and Batgirl intervened to halt the countdown and subdued Croc before he could kill Baby-Doll. She was later sent back to Old Arkham.

"Dinner time Dahl," one of the Orderlies said, as he shoved a plate of food into her cell. The cold gaze on the Orderly's face was full of raw hatred.

"Don't think I've forgotten what you did to my mom," the Orderly said, the tiny figure remained silent.

"She was your 'Big Sister Suzy,' The orderly taunted, "Tammy Vance." A single tear rolled down her cheek, as she thought back to all that had transpired, how seeing her old 'family' finding happiness in marrage or successful careers as serious actors and actresses, while she was so alone, was more then she could take.

She remembered how over a week she hunted down and slaughtered them one by one, only surrendering when Batman showed his face. "I didn't mean to," was all she could say, as she broke down and began crying, "I didn't mean to." The Orderly could bearly control himself, as he kicked open the cell door, and drew his eletro-staff. A cold emotionless smile crept over his face, as he eyed the terrified figure. He looked over his shoulders, making sure no one was watching.

"I've been waiting for this moment," the orderly smiled, slapping the staff against the palm of his hand, "for a long time." He raised the electro staff over his head, and before long the screams of a terrified little girl echoed through the nightmarish hallways, as the Orderly struck her again and again, becoming more violent with each blow.

Location: Therpy Room S5-E78 New Arkham Asylum, Gotham City

It had only been a few days since, Waylon Jones aka Killer Croc, had been recaptured and returned to Arkham. Today was his first sesson with Dr. Elizabeth Arkham, the head of New Arkham.

"I just wanted the money to cure myself," Croc said, trying his best to hold back tears, "I don't want to be a monster anymore."

"You're not a monster Waylon," Elizabeth said, taking Croc's scale covered hand in her own, "You're just different." Croc couldn't help but smile, it had been so long since he'd heard anyone use his real name, that he'd nearly forgotten what it sounded like.

"I shouldn't have done it, should I, Doc?" Croc said, "It was wrong to kill them."

"Yes it was," Elizabeth said, "but we shouldn't dwell on what has been done and can't be changed or we will find ourselves consumed by it," she looked at the clock on the wall, "that's enough for today. We'll continue tomorrow."

"Nobody ever took no interest in me before Doc," Croc said, holding her hands in his own, "They just chained me and beat me. You're the first person who ever treated me like a human being. Thanks." With that the guards rushed Croc out of the room, returning him to his cell.

Elizabeth sat back in her chair, Croc could have crushed her with a single blow and yet this session had given a sign of hope that the monster they said couldn't be cured, could finally find a small mesure of peace within his tortured soul. It was moments such as that, which made her life's task worth while, and made her feel that she could also redeem the Arkham family name that her great uncle had so long ago corrupted. The current Administrator liked to think positive and also believed that no one was beyond rehabilitation just like her last predecessor Doctor Joan Leland who was a no nonsense professional undaunted by the famous cases that lived in Old Arkham.

"An impressive display, Dr. Arkham," the tall thin man named Dr. Charles Cavendish standing behind her said, "of how to subdue a wild beast." Elizabeth shot him a cold gaze. He had Auburn (graying) hair and blue eyes. His nose sharp and hawk-like, has high cheekbones and his lips were thin and cruel, without the slightest suggestion of mercy. He was in his 40s, but he still had a fearful aura about him.

"I'm giving a man back his humanity," Elizabeth said, "you'd do well to remember that Dr. Cavendish."

"Never underestimate Gotham City or this Asylum," Dr. Cavendish replied, "For a lot of people, the Arkham family is synonomus with madness." Elizabeth sighed, as she thought back to the stories her father used to tell her about her Great-Uncle Amadeus and Great-Grand Aunt Elizabeth whom she was named after.

"I'm not Amadeus," Elizabeth replied, "my entire life I've only had one dream by curing the criminally insane, I can redeem the Arkham name, and turn back the nightmare my great uncle unleashed when he first built the Asylum."

Before Dr. Cavendish had a chance to form a reply, a security guard named Ethan Cash burst into the office. He's the grandson of Aaron Cash, one of the most senior and respected guards at Old Arkham, his grandfather was only afraid of one inmate - Killer Croc, who severely wounded him once during a riot at the asylum many years ago. He also has an alligator skin wallet made out of a piece of Killer Croc's hide as a memento.

"What's the problem?" Dr. Arkham inquired.

"There's trouble in one of the cell blocks," Ethan replied, "One of the Orderlies has lost it, he's attacking one of the inmates."

"Alert the Security Guards in the area," Dr. Arkham replied, as she made her way out of the office, "I'm on my way down to the cell blocks.

Location: Cell S3-E74 New Arkham Asylum, Gotham City

Mary tried to stagger back to her feet, her body was bloodied by the relentless beating the Orderly had inflicted on her.

"Please," She pleaded, with tears in her eyes, "stop."

"I don't think so," the Orderly replied, as he reached, up his sleeve, the only thing Baby-Doll saw, was a bright flash, it didn't take her long to recognize what it was: a dagger.

"Like you always said," the Orderly said, as he raised the weapon over his head, "I didn't mean to." With that he brought the weapon down, but before the cold steel could come into contact with her blood covered skin, his hand was halted in mid air.

"LET GO OF ME, YOU BASTARDS!!" the orderly shouted, as the security guards restrained him, "SHE HAS TO DIE, SHE HAS TO PAY FOR WHAT SHE DID TO MY MOM!!!!"

"What's the meaning of this?" Dr. Arkham inquired.

"His name is Bill Kane," Dr. Cavendish replied, "He was hired on a few months ago, apparently his mother was one of Baby-Doll's victims and he's been holding quite a grudge ever since."

Dr. Arkham simply looked at the struggling orderly.

"LET ME GO SHE HAS TO DIE!!" the Orderly said, continuing to struggle.

"Take him away, and lock him up," Dr. Arkham replied. The last thing she heard, was the sounds of the Orderly screaming a final curse as he was carried off into the darkness.

"Your family's legacy," Dr. Cavendish said, "It doesn't matter how this nightmare looks on the outside, on the inside anyone, even you Elizabeth, can succumb to the evil that exists within these walls, you're great uncle is proof of that."

"I can assure you Dr. Cavendish, that I won't fall prey to the madness like my great uncle did." Dr. Arkham stated to him with total conviction in her tone.

"We shall see if you live up to your word, Doctor." He sneered at her as he folded his arms across his chest knowing full well of her family's reputation.

Location: High-Rise Apartments, Downtown Gotham City, Night

Batman spoke into his radio as he looked at his surroundings. He was crouching outside of a balcony, waiting to enter the apartment building. "Why are you so sure I should protect this guy?"

"Lawrence Ketterly was killed on that bus stop not so long ago," Bruce replied, "Joel Schumacher is Ketterly's partner in Phoenix Industries making him more then likely the next target on the assassin's hit list and so far, Barbara's only been able to confirm attacks in Gotham." His mentor stated on the other end of the radio.

"What is Phoenix Industries?" he asked

Location: The Batcave

On the giant computer, the former Dark Knight pulls up a document about Phoenix Industries, a company located in the city. "Phoenix Industries was formed in Gotham a few months ago. It was set up to be some kind of dummy corporation for real estate purchasing." He then hits the keyboard and the monitor changes to shows a newspaper clipping with the following headline: GOTHAM DOCKYARDS TO BE RESURRECTED.

"The old dockyards. They bought every parcel, all of it." he confirmed

"And that's bad because..." Batman asked

"It isn't, necessarily. You buy the land cheap, then rebuild, and you can make a fortune." He realizes something else, "Or get complete access to the infrastructure of Gotham -- the sewers, the shipping lines, anything coming in and out of the city." Bruce stated

"And you're not banking on the sunnier motivation, are you?" Batman asked

"I just traced the tax filings to the actual owners. Look, just find that man so you can questioned him." Bruce stated

Location: High-Rise Apartments, Downtown Gotham City, Night

The Tommorow Knight pushes the curtains aside enters the room and looks around. The entire place is dark and quiet, save for a song playing on the stereo.

"Are you in yet?" Bruce questioned his student.

"Of course. Are you sure he's here?" he stated while checking his suroundings.

"He ordered pizza on his credit card 40 minutes ago." Bruce replied

From the cornor of his eye, Batman spoted a pizza with some slices missing, sitting in an open box on the coffie table. "Getting Cold," Batman said, to himself, as he touched the pizza. He walked over to the stereo and shut it off. He made his way to the bedroom and looked around, confused. Before Batman had a chance to contact Bruce, a helicopter swooped by the building, lighting up the darkened apartment, as Batman backed away from the window, he suddenly bumped into something, turning around he spotted a man hanging from the ceiling, dead. "Ookay... he's here."

"Terry, there's something coming through on the police scanners. You've gotta get out of there." Bruce said, sounding alarmed.

However before Batman could do anything, The door to the apartment exploded, as Detective Reese made his way in pointing a flashlight and a DC3 Elite Pistol. A cross between the Beretta M92F and the IMI Desert Eagle, having the looks of a M92F and the damage and recoil of the Desert Eagle.

"Freeze! Don't move. Detective Jesse Reese, Gotham P.D. You're not going anywhere this time, Batman." Detective Reese shouted, leveling his pistol at Batman.

Batman remained silent as he held out his hands in a mock surrender. The lights in the appartment suddenly turn on as a pair of handcuffs snap over two wrists - one on Batman's, and the other on that of an antique bronze statue.

"Okay," Batman said, with an annoyed tone to his voice, "I really don't have time for this."

"You're in the middle of a crime scene, Bats - you'll make time." Jesse replied.

"You can see it's a suicide." Batman said stating the obvious.

"Seem to be a lot of those going around lately, huh? You know, my colleagues, they think I'm crazy. But I'm beginning to wonder if somebody isn't giving these victims a little push." Jesse said with a hint of concern.

He walks around the room, inspecting. Batman turns his head and speaks low, into his radio. "You'd like this guy boss, he's got your paranoid turn of mind."

Jesse turned around to face The Tommorow Knight, "Excuse me? What was that?"

Batman gave him a grim look, "I didn't say anything."

"Neighbors reported sounds of a fight. Must've been in the area to have gotten there so fast. You'll have a few minutes before the black-and-whites arrive, just get out of there." Bruce warned his student.

"Do you know this man?" he inquired pointing to the hanged victim.

"He was dead when I got here." he said in a matter of fact.

"Really?" Jesse raised an eyebrow as Batman shrugs, "Oh, so then the best you can say for yourself is, you were robbing a dead guy?" He questioned The Tommorow Knight.

"You're a detective - detect. What was I gonna do, strap a few paintings on my back and take the elevator? I don't have the gear for a heist and I don't have any weapons. What did I do, come in here and chat him into hanging himself?" He stated flatly to the cop.

"Even if I were to believe you, you still haven't answered my question. What are you doing here?" he inquired

"Same thing you are, just trying to save someone. Guess we were both a little too late." he sighed

Jesse wanders around the room more, turning his back on Batman to look up at the dead man.

"We're on the same side, Jesse." Batman said to him.

Bruce on the other end was surprised, "Now wait just a minute!"

"I know what I'm doing, back off!" He stated angerly into the radio.

Jesse turns around sharply, stares at him. "Do you... hear voices or something?"

"You have no idea. Someone dropped the Hermez shooter off at the precint doostep last week, right? And the Dorsett kidnapper - I practically giftwrapped that one for you." He smirks at him.

Jesse pulls his gun out from his holster and points it at The Tomorrow Knight, intense. "Who are you really behind that mask?"

"I can't tell you who I am, but I can tell you is that I'm not your enemy." He assured the cop.

"What, I'm supposed to believe you're a friend? You're wanted by the police for your unorthodox methods and being a vigilante. It's also my job to unmask vigilantes." Jesse said, knowing Batman's recent past activities as he reached out to take hold of The Tomorrow Knight's mask.

Without warning, Batman swiftly reaches out and kicks the gun out of Jesse's hand, and then tosses him the unlocked handcuffs, which he catches. When he looks back at Batman, he's gone. He turns around and finds him standing in front of the open window across the room from the bronze statue. "I hate locks." The Tomorrow Knight stated

"So you save people?" Jesse inquired

"It's my job, but only on good days." he stated to the cop

"Why don't you carry any weapons?" he asked again

"I am the weapon." he stated smugly.

He gives Jesse a two-finger salute, turns and rushes onto the balcony, throwing out his arms and - leaping off. He soars out of sight and Jesse rushes to the balcony edge, alarmed. Down below, Batman snaps his wings and activates his rocket boots as he streaks away into the night. Jesse jingles the handcuffs in his hand and looks after him, and then out into the city, perplexed and intrigued. Just then Darcy came in with her gun in her hand, "What happened? What did I miss?" she asked her partner.

Jesse turned to face her, "I had the Batman in my custody." he said

"And you let him escape?" she raised her eyebrow at him.

"Well, he somehow broke free from those cuffs, but next time I'll make sure he doesn't escape from me." He stated with total conviction.

"Well tell that to Chief Rojas." She told him

"I will, but I know he's gonna eat me alive." He stated worried about his employer's anger.

Location: Gotham Dockyards, Abandoned Warehouse, Pier Two, Night

"Boss, Mr. Schumacher has been delt with." The dark haired man in a red suit and fedora named Buttons McBoomBoom said. Inside the abandoned warehouse where they had created their temporary headquarters, rats could be heard scurrying amongst the walls and police sirens rang in the distance.

Two-Face kept his back to the dark haired man. His clothing reflected the duality of his face; the white lab coat he wore was neat and elegant on the right side while the gray tails jacket was ripped, wrinkled, and frayed on the left. He was in the middle of mixing chemicals together.

"Wonderful Buttons," Two-Face said. "did anyone see you?"

"No sir, I made sure I wasn't seen or followed." Buttons replied. "It's only a matter of time before the police and The Batman figure out that you escaped from New Arkham."

"Yes..." Two-Face said smiling. "My comeback has to be the greatest that will make Gotham fear me once again and I won't let that flying mouse spoil my plans. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." Buttons said.

"And, for God's sake, hurry it up," Two-Face growled. "we need to move out in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

"Understood sir." Buttons replied.

To Be continued...


	6. And Justice for All

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 6: And Justice for All

Author's Notes: Wow, 25 reviews! Thanks so much! We love them ;)

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Gotham City Police Headquarters - Night

Two Major Crimes Unit Detectives named Josh Azeveda and Trey Hartley were at their desks when Jesse and Darcy came in. Josh is known for being opinionated, often engaging his fellow officers in lively, usually controversial, debate while Trey Hartley is the comedian of the Gotham City Police Department's Major Crimes Unit, or so he would like to think, though his attempts at making light of situations may partly be an attempt to cover up how uncomfortable he feels as one of the youngest members of the Unit. He is a ladies man and also has a gambling habit, frequently losing large amounts of money playing poker, which he isn't really very good at. His detecting partner, Josh Azeveda often finds him to be a source of worry and frustration.

"The Chief wants to see you guys about the incident in that apartment building." said Josh.

"Did he say anything else?" asked Darcy.

"Nope." said Trey shaking his head as Jesse and Darcy made their way into Chief Rojas' office.

"You wanted to see us Chief?" asked Jesse.

The portly Chief growled, his pudgy, mustached face shaking with irritation at the newspaper clippings of The Tomorrow Knight.

Chief Angel Rojas had been the chief of police since Batman's return appearances began in Gotham City for quite sometime. For Chief Rojas, much like Lieutenant Harvey Bullock before him, Batman was nothing less than a black eye to his police force, taking all the glory away from his 'real' police officers. Rojas firmly believed that there was no room for vigilante justice in modern Gotham, regardless of what Commissioner Gordon had to say, and Rojas had made capturing The Tomorrow Knight a top priority.

"Years ago," Rojas began, "Two-Face II remakes the largest monument in Gotham in his own image. In effect, telling us he owns this city. Now that he's been finally captured and sent to that loony bin, I was told that you let The Batman get away in that apartment building where the murder took place. EXPLAIN YOURSELF REESE!" He slammed his fist onto his desk.

Darcy was shocked at her employer's tone, "Chief Rojas, Jesse nearly had the Bat, but..." Jesse raised his hand to his partner, cutting her off at mid scentence, "It's all right Darcy."

Chief Rojas got even madder, at the respone "No Reese, I don't think it's all right. One more blunder like tonight and you can kiss your badge goodbye."

"Chief Rojas," Darcy said, cutting him off.

"That's enough out of you Darcy," Rojas shouted, "One more outburst from you and you'll be hunting for a new job as well."

"Actually Chief, that will be quite enough from you." Rojas swallowed hard, as he caught sight of Commissioner Gordon standing in his office door.

"Commissoner," Rojas said, "I was just----." Barbara simply sighed.

"Save it Chief," Barbara replied, turning her attention to Darcy and Jesse, "I would like to speak with you two in my office."

Location: Commissioner Gordon's Office

"You'll have to excuse Chief Rojas," Barbara began, as Darcy and Jesse took their seats, "he's a lot like his predecessor, Lieutenant Bullock, carrying on a personal vendetta against Batman, since he doesn't like it when a costumed vigilante steals the spot light from good cops."

"Maybe he has a point," Jesse replied, angrily.

"That maybe so Detective Reese," Barbara continued, "and even though Batman has helped us bring down some of the most dangerous criminals Gotham has seen in nearly 50 years, including Two-Face II. He's still a vigilante, and I'm sure the next time you both confront him, you'll produce results."

"You have my guarantee," Jesse replied. Barbara simply sighed.

"Remember you're to bring him in alive," Barbara said, "He's a common criminal like any other in my eyes, but keep in mind that Batman has the press on his side, as well as a large amount of the support from the public. After Killer Croc's resurfacing, the last thing we need is more blood on the street, especally someone was popular as Batman." The two Detectives simply nodded, and took their leave.

Location: Gotham Alley - Night

"Did you see the expression on that guy's face when we popped him? I thought I was gonna laugh myself to death!" The speaker named Cannibal, leader of the gang cackled, nearly choking. His visage, more then the others, bore an eerie resemblance to their namesake.

At first glance, Cannibal would appear to be a common thug sitting in a shadowed alley with his four thug friends, his skin was pale and unhealthy, as if it had been years since he'd last seen sunlight. He was boasting over their latest felony. But on closer observation, the flicker of distant streetlights would reveal the garish neon face paint, like a hoard of grinning ghouls, that signified one of Gotham's most notorious gang of urban predators, known both for their shockingly brutal crimes, and their very dark sense of humor.

They call themselves The Golums and some might say they are The Jokerz' successors. They sleep by day and live by night, and considered anything that came their way a fair game.

"Check out this swag." Cannibal dumped the contents of the paper bag he was holding on to the ground. Hundreds of plastic cards shimmered in the dim light. One of the gang members whistled appreciatively.

"We can get some totally shway new bikes with that much plastic," he said in awe.

"Awe, you promised you'd buy me a pony if I was good." A female voice enters the frey.

The five Golums whipped their heads towards the mocking voice. At the end of the alley, shrouded in shadows, stood a vaguely female shape.

Her laughter tinkled lightly through the darkness. A passing car's headlights revealed a flash of black.

"Hey, girlie, I don't find you particularly amusing. And around here, that can be mighty dangerous." The grinning leader pulled out a switchblade to emphasize his threat. "Maybe we should eat you." Cannibal's grin was a hideous parody, exposing his blackend teeth.

The shadowed figure stepped into the light to reveal herself as Black Scorpion and laughed at them. "Me, not amusing? Why, you'd eat me too quickly!" Her voice abruptly grew harsh. "You have a lot of nerve for someone who goes around dressed like they were traumatized by clowns at their fifth birthday party. Underneath that cheap makeup, you're nothing more then common street trash. You have no class, not style. And most of all..." He could see her smile. "YOU are not funny in the least."

Cannibal's eyes widened with shock. With a choked howl of rage, he leapt at Black Scorpion, knife slashing. She easily ducked his wild swipe, ramming him in the stomach with the heel of her hand. He doubled over, his breath gone. She grabbed him by his hair, smashing her knee into his forehead. Pivoting, not releasing her grip, she slammed him into the alley wall, face first. The knife clattered to the ground, followed by the battered Cannibal. Blood poured from his nose. His eyes flickered once, and he passed out.

The three other Golums were already on their feet, advancing towards her. One chuckled as he swung a heavy chain. "Bitch, you've got to be crazy to mess with The Golums."

She flashed them a winning smile as she fell back into a defensive position. "You know what they said all those years ago. Girls just wanna have fun!"

Meanwhile in another part of Gotham...

Terry McGinnis was not having a good night. He'd been patrolling Gotham since sundown, and in that time he'd gotten into at least three brawls with different members of a street gang called T's and was almost arrested by Detective Jesse Reese in that apartment. He was tired and sore, and his mind had already drifted to the thought of going home and getting some rest. He was making one last pass over the city before retiring for the night, and so far he d seen nothing out of the ordinary which was good. He might actually get to bed at a decent hour for once.

"Wayne, are you sure about this? I haven't seen anyone yet." he asked

The reply came through the speaker, crystal clear and just as sharp. "All The Golum's recent crimes have occurred in circular area around the South side. They are holed up somewhere down there, and you will find them. Have some patience."

Terry McGinnis, more commonly known to the populace of the city as Batman, gave an affirmative sigh. Gliding over the towering skyscrapers could make one feel quite powerful, confident. Bruce Wayne seemed to be excellent at crushing that confidence.

"Hold on, I'm going in for a closer look." Using his boot jets to give him an added push, Batman swooped lower, flying between the buildings, scouring alleyways, searching for the gang. Just as he had been doing for the last two hours.

"I still don't... wait, hold on." A flash of neon green caught his eye two alleys away. He dived, landing on the roof of a shabby apartment complex. He crept to the edge, looking down. He gawked at the sight below him.

"Find something?" The curt voice brought him back to reality.

"You could say that," Batman said dryly. "Looks like someone is an even better detective then you, Wayne."

"What are you talking about?" The former Dark Knight inquired

"Take a look for yourself." He stated to his mentor.

Bruce leaned forward on the console of the computer, staring silently at the image on the huge screen before him.

Five members of the Golum gang, including the leader, hung battered and unconscious from a streetlight. They were tied together with a huge rope. Hanging from the bizarre package was a large white tag with something scrawled in red. As much as he squinted, Bruce couldn't make the writing out.

"Terry, what does that tag say?" He asked

There was a pause as Batman's voice came back through the speaker. Bruce noticed that his tone was much more subdued then usual. "Unworthy... so what? Is there some other guy out there whose crazy enough to want to play superhero too?" Batman asked

Bruce ignored his comment for the moment, studying the results of the computer's test on the screen. Batman had left the unconscious gang members in the alley with the police on their way, thanks to an 'anonymous' phone tip to the Commissioner by Bruce. Terry had brought the tag and rope back with him to the Batcave, for Bruce to examine as Terry removed his mask from his face.

"I don't think so," Bruce finally said, turning to his assistant. "First of all, this doesn't seem an act of benevolence, not with that message. It seems more like someone had it in for The Golums, someone who plays pretty rough."

"And second?" He inquired

"I don't think it's a guy. That message was written in lipstick." Bruce confirmed

Terry raised an eyebrow. "So do we know who Miss 'Doesn't Play Well With Others' is?"

Bruce frowned, "Unfortunately, no. There were no fingerprints or traceable DNA on the rope or card."

"So, it's a dead end for now." Terry yawned and stretched.

"For now," Bruce said, furrowing his brow. "But I have a feeling we'll hear from her again. Someone who leaves this flamboyant of a message is not one to keep quiet." He glanced towards the dusty trophies in another section of the cave, all that remained of so many of the psychopaths he had faced. "Not at all."

The Batcave included not only replicas of Batman's most famous enemies (both wax dummies and robot combat trainers), but the costumes of infamous members of the rogues gallery, including The Riddler, Harley Quinn, Catwoman, Firefly, The Penguin and The Mad Hatter. Other items which have been shown to be in the Cave include the Freeze Gun and headpiece of Mr. Freeze, the puppet Scarface, a giant penny he had received though an encounter with the original Two-Face, a large robotic Tyrannosaurus Rex, an enlarged copy of one of The Joker's trademark joker cards, and one of Roxy Rocket's rockets. A display case which included the costumes of Robin, Batgirl, Nightwing, and Batman himself was placed near the stairway up to Wayne Manor. This doubled as a security vault where Batman kept a small sliver of kryptonite in case Superman ever went rogue again.

The cave included a 'shrine' to Bruce Wayne's childhood TV hero, The Gray Ghost. The Batcave was an exact replica of The Gray Ghost lair from the old television series. Bruce made use of this when he wore the hat and goggles of the old hero to keep from revealing his identity to Inque.

Location: Gotham Stock Exchange Skyscraper - Night

An enormous clock governs the tower lobby of glass and gleaming metal: a cathedral of commerce. People clothed in status qou move through familiar lunch patterns.

From above, three figures move across the lobby, disrupting the patterns like an opposing charge through iron filings.

Two-Face, Melanie and Buttons McBoomBoom glide into the elevators. Two-Face sported a long trenchcoat, his hat covering his head. Good choice of clothing - seeing as what laid beneath the hat terrifies the most toughest of people.

If you saw what laid beneath - you would see half of a man, a man filled with love and caring, a man filled with the upmost strength and power, a man who had everything in his life. However the other half of this man lost everything - everything evil and chaotic has now entered his life, and there is no escaping it. These two sides of this man are, ironically seen by his facial features.

One side, a handsome man, cheekbone prominant, his brown eye shining ever so brighter like a raging ocean and his soft silky dark brown hair which layed ever so beautifully over his head.

The other side was a mass of red charred skin - an everlasting scar of the acid incident that happened a while back - his demon yellow eye was wide open. The side of his lip was curled up into a permanant sneer and his teeth had become rotten and yellow. His skin flaked as his mouth moved - an indication to the destroyed cells of the face breaking away from his once gorgeous face. His hair on the left side was also bright green.

Melanie on the other hand had lost most of the weight from the pregnancy, but there was some she couldn't get rid of. Her breasts were fuller, her butt got bigger, and her curves were more pronounced. In other words, she looked damn fine. For Melanie, it had been an eternity since she dressed herself in the split black and white colored garb of Ten from The Royal Flush Gang. But in those days she was just a member of the gang, not a person, not a daughter, just Ten. But now she was treated as both a wife and a member of her husband's gang with the respect she deserves. She remembered her mother's own words that blood spoke louder, and she was convinced to stick with her current lover.

Several people start to get on but Two-Face stops them with a small shake of his head as the elevator doors close on him.

Inside the elevator, Ten scans the enitre building with her PDA.

"What do you see babe?" Two-Face asked her.

Ten tilted her head to the left, "It's strange, this building is somehow different."

Two-Face was surprised by this, "Encrypted?"

"Maybe." she stated

It was Buttons turn to speak, "Is that good for us or bad for us?"

Ten shrugged, "Well, it looks like every floor is wired with explosives."

Buttons sighed, "Bad for us."

The elevator stops, "Here we go." Two-Face stated to his members as they exited the elevator.

Location: Le Vrai (Translated: The True or The One Who is True) Restaurant - Night

A very exclusive french restaurant. Hyper-nouveau with a deific view and the accompanying tones of etheral string music. A slick onanistic maitre d' stops them. "Puis-je vous aider?" (Translation: Can I help you?)

Two-Face smiles at him, "Oui, nous sommes ici pour parler avec le Merovingian." (Translated: Yes, we are here to speak with The Merovingian.)

"Of course. He's been expecting you. Follow me." He gestured to them.

They are led past the power lunches towards the far wall of tinted green glass which casts a money-colored hue over the city below.

A small indian man is escorted away by a big man from a raised table, where Two-Face immediatley recognizes The Merovingian.

The Indain catches Two-Face's attention but quickly averts his eyes. Two-Face whispers to Ten, "Remember, keep your guard up at all times." Ten nods.

The Merovingian smiles, gesturing to them. He is a perfectly preserved mature man who speaks with a French accent. His face is perfectly symmetrical and his nose perfectly proportioned, likely from cosmetic surgery. He has close-cropped black hair with steely blue eyes. There is a sharpness that extends through every part of him, from the cut of his suit to his razor sharp thin smile; he is like a surgeon's blade. He's also a powerbroker who buys and sells information to the highest bidder and enjoys fine pleasantries and scintillating banter. The Merovingian has many guards and is thus considered powerful, it is unknown if he has fighting capacity. Beside him is his wife; sex and death squeezed into a woman's business suit made of latex. She also resents his philandering.

There are four others gathered around them. They wear outfits that seemed to be a cross between a mortican and a rock star. There is an ease in the postures of all of them, a confidence that suggests a sated animal regaurding something it considers its prey.

"Ah-ha, here he is at last, Two-Face II, The Duke of Duality himself, Right? And the legendary Buttons McBoomBoom from Empire City. And Melanie Walker aka Ten of The Royal Flush Gang of course, si belle qu'elle me fait souffrir. (Translation: so beautiful she makes me suffer.) He kisses her hand.

"It's Melanie Dent now." She told him flatly.

The Merovingian smiles, "But of course, forgive me, I did not know but I have heard so much, you honor me. Please sit and join us." They all take a seat at the table.

"This is my wife, Persephone." He points the woman beside him. She smiles, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses but obviously staring only at Two-Face.

"Something to eat? Drink? Of course, such things are contrivances, like so much here for the sake of appearences." He suggested to the present company.

Two-Face shook his head, "No, thank you."

"Yes, of course. Who has time? Who has time? But then, if we do not ever take time, how can we ever have time?" He smiles again, pouring himself a large glass of red wine. "Oh, Chateau Haute Briond '59. Magnificent wine. I love French wine. Like I love the French language. I have sampled every language. French is my favorite. Fantastic language, especially to curse with."

He lets loose a string of French expletives.

"You see? Like whiping your bottom with silk. I love it." as he drinks the wine itself.

Two-Face felt uneasy with the man's fascination on the forein language, "Allez facile là-dessus." (Translated: Go easy on it.)

The Merovingian smiles at the criminal, "Why should I go easy on it when you, yourself is obsessed with anything that relates with dual natures and the number two?"

Two-Face smirked when the frenchman made a good point, "Touché but you know why we're here."

"Hmph... I am a trafficker of information, I know everything I can. The question is, do you know why you are here?" He inquired

"You have information on the identity of The Batman." Two-Face stated to him

"Oh yes, it is true. The Batman, of course. But this is not a reason, this is not a 'why.' The Batman himself, his very nature, is means, it is not an end, and so, to look for him if I were to tell you his identity is to be looking for a means to do... what?" He inquired again.

"You know the answer to that question." Ten confirmed

"But do you? You think you do but you do not. You are here because you were sent here, you were told to come here and you obeyed." he laughs, "It is, of course, the way of all things." He swirls about the wine glass. "You see, there is only one constant, one universal, it is the only real truth: causality. Action. Reaction. Cause and effect." He stated to the gang.

Ten was confused, "But everything begins with a choice."

"No, Wrong. Choice is an illusion, created between those with power, and those without. Like your husband, he relies on a coin to help him decide wheather to do things or not." The Merovingian demonstrates his point by sending a small chocolate lava cake to the woman. The cake is actually laced with a drug that would cause her to have an intense and embarrassing orgasm.

"Look there, at that woman. My God, just look at her." He aches while gazing at an attractive woman in a business suit. "Affecting everyone around her, so obvious, so bourgeois, so boring. But wait..." The Merovingian watches with interest as his wife's jaw tightens. "Watch, you see, I have sent her dessert, a very special dessert. I had it made myself."

A waiter sets a beautiful dessert in front of the woman. The men at the table smile as she lifts a delicate forkful of dark chocolate.

The Merovingian smiles, "It starts so simply, each line of the drug creating a new effect, just like poetry."

Her lips close around the fork as a luxurios richness spreads through her. "First, a rush, heat, her heart flutters, a dizziness, her palms begin to perspire. You can see it, yes?" He stated to them as they watched from where they are.

She sips from a glass of water and as she sets the glass down.

"She does not understand why - is it the wine? No. What is it then, what is the reason?" There is a gleam in his eyes as he watches her. "And soon it does not matter, soon the why and the reason are gone, and all that matters is the feeling itself."

The woman shifts in her chair, smiling faintly trying to follow the conversation.

"This is the nature of the universe. We struggle against it, we fight to deny it, but it is of course pretense, it is a lie." He smiles

She fidgets again, pulling at the hem of her skirt, crossing and uncrossing her legs. The fire storm reaches the peak of its intensity and explodes.

"Beneath our poised appearance, the truth is we are completely out of control." He was satisfied with what he saw.

Gathering her purse, she smiles polity and rises to go to the ladies' room.

The Merovingian turns his attention to the criminals before him, "Causality. There is no escape from it, we are forever slaves to it. Our only hope, our only peace is to understand it, to understand the 'why'. 'Why' is what separates us from them, you from me. 'Why' is the only real social power, without it you are powerless." Contempt drips from him. "And this is how you come to me, without 'why,' without power. Another link in the chain. But fear not, since I have seen how you are eagar to know of The Batman's identity, I will tell you what you need to know." He pushes away from the table. "But right now, I have some real business to do, I will say adieu and goodbye."

Persephone watches as he takes his leave, "Where are you going?"

The Merovingian stops and looks at her, "Please, ma chérie, I've told you, we are all victims of causality. I drink too much wine, I must take a leak. Cause and effect. Au revoir." With an affable shrug, he is gone.

The four killers and a large bald man surround Two-Face, Buttons McBoomBoom and Ten. One of them reaches for Ten's shoulder.

"Touch me, and that hand will never touch anything again." She warned the thug.

Location: Gotham Stock Exchange Skyscraper - Hallway/Elevator - Night

They are escorted into the elevator. The threatened thug blows a kiss at Ten as the doors close.

"Well, that didn't go so well." Buttons sighed

"Maybe we did something wrong." Ten stated worrying about what just happened.

"Or didn't do something." Buttons suggested

"No, what happened, happened and couldn't have happened any other way." Two-Face stated with total conviction.

"How do you know?" Ten asked her husband.

Two-Face smiles at her, "We're still alive."

To be continued...


	7. Déjà Vu

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 7: Déjà Vu

Author's Notes: Things are looking good from all these reviews :) Happy New Year to all!

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Extensive Enterprises HQ, Center of Gotham City - Day

It was just another day at Extensive Enterprises. The coffee was brewed, the fax machines were hot at work, and most of the employees shuffling papers on the tops floors hardly heard the thunderous sound of the helicopter hovering inches above the glass skyscraper. Tomax and Xamot, brothers and the alleged 'bosses' of Extensive Enterprises, jumped out of their chopper, landed gracefully on the roof of their massive business building and headed immediately to the elevator. The company itself was large enough to compete with Wayne Enterprises, but The Twins preferred to undermine their competition from the inside. Another woman was there already, a pudgy member of the cleaning crew with a small round nose and a shock of red hair.

"I pressed it already." She announced in a bored tone as Tomax repeatedly jammed his thumb against the lighted 'down' button. With nothing else to be done but wait, Tomax and Xamot did their best to act natural and ignore the female janitor's casual appraisal of their attire.

"Nice weather today." Xamot stated awkwardly.

"I wouldn't know." The janitor replied coldly. She knew what was coming even before the elevator rolled open. The two brothers stepped in without a word and selected the button marked 'one hundred' and the 'close' button immediately after. Left with her trolley of cleaning supplies which couldn't possible be carted down the stair, the janitor gave the finger to the closed elevator doors and pulled out a tabloid she had hidden in the mop bucket.

True, the owner's office was only one floor below and anyone without a cleaning trolley could have easily taken the stairs, but Tomax and Xamot had tight scheduals and already one person had seen them dressed in their attire. Tomax pushed the stop button on the elevator and their ride abruptly halted. A metal door slid open in the back of the shaft revealing two tan suits, pressed and fresh from the dry cleaners. The brothers hurried to remove their rock climbing outfits, delayed for a moment when Xamot got caught in his sash, and adorned their more serious daily business attire.

The suits were identical. Every sleeve, cuff and pink pocket carnation looked alike, but placed backward so that anyone looking at the brothers side by side would see that the suits mirrored each other. Their clothes were not meant to confuse, however, but to emphasize that Tomax and Xamot were, in fact, identical twins. Like their carefully tailored blazers and slacks, they were alike in every way save for a faint scar on Xamot's cheek left over from their time in the French Foreign Legion.

Tomax handed his neatly folded rock climbing outfits to Xamot who placed it on top of his own in the secret compartment. Xamot smiled smugly to himself as he ran a comb through his hair. It had been his idea to keep a spare change of clothes in the elevator.

They worked hard to hide their less-than-legal identities even though everyone in the entire building, including Jones the doorman and the nosy lady one building over, knew they were part of Two-Face's organization. The Twins were well aware that they weren't the best at keeping their secret, what with the hundred and thirty four guards dressed in the same disguises lingering in the lobby, the weapons, landing pad, and metal poles build directly into Extensive Enterprises that activated when the Twins pushed a button, and, of course, the fact that a terrorist named Stanley 'Mad Stan' Labowski, the 1960s nonconformist radical with a penchant for explosives, strongly believes that society is being lead to ruin by a corrupt system, and that the only way to break free is to blow it all up would stormed the building every other Tuesday. Still, the Twins felt they should keep a low profile when they could.

"Another day another dollar, eh Tomax?" Said Xamot as he fixed his tie. "Indeed it is." Tomax replied arranging his hair so every single piece was in place.

When they were ready they released the elevator and stepped out on their floor. Casually, they walked through the crowd of people waiting just outside, ignoring the glares and muffled grumbling. The Twins had hogged the elevator for a good half hour and only the newbie employees were foolish enough to dare a sprint to the upper floors. A former secretary died trying to reach his office on the eighty second floor. It was quickly hushed up and the Twins paid for his funeral.

The Twins stepped into their spacious, polished office only to find Buttons McBoomBoom and Melanie Dent aka Ten were waiting for them. Buttons is a tall and gaunt dark-haired broad-shouldered man with greyish skin and jaundiced eyes. He dresses like a gangster, with a red-violet overcoat, fedora and pants straight out of the Prohibition Era. Buttons talks and acts like a menacing, coldhearted 1930's gangster, something of an anachronism in the future and also serves Two-Face as his personal bodyguard.

Buttons hides, underneath his suit, a cybernetic torso that bears twin machine guns with which he blasts away after he unbuttons his shirt to reveal them in the heat of battle against either the Gotham City Police Department or The Batman.

Melanie was dressed in the old-fashioned black shirt and the hot pink miniskirt. Melanie has a long, thin frame, but is all the same extremely voluptuous. Rather than flaunting this, she has a distinct air of girlishness and is fresh and straight forward enough not to allow anyone to see her simply as sexy. Because of her upbringing and its tendency towards physical activity, she has never been self-conscious about her full breasts or hips. She has long, athletic limbs and small, pretty hands. She has a button nose and full round lips that are frequently pursed in thought or smiling widely, exposing nice, attractive white teeth.

Melanie's skill with cosmetics matches her skill with weaponry. She was never a tomboy growing up, but approaches her femininity in a similar fashion. She can apply mascara like a professional and never has black lipstick or any kind of lipstick on her teeth, and mixes foundation so well that she looks like she's never had a spot on her life. Life is much like military training to her and putting on make-up is like bootcamp, quick and efficient.

She is the same way about her hair and warddrobe, but despite her careful selection of clothes and anything else related to appearance, she is not superficial. Even though she does not show the world a businesslike persona, she seems very much a businesswoman in all things. She deals with everything in its allotted time slot, both in actually doing it and thinking about it; and as far as her appearance goes, she does not think on it much.

"Didn't we just," Tomax began. "Leave you?" Xamot finished. It was their on going game to finish each other's sentences.

"The Boss has information about a vital mission and asked us to gather here to meet him." Buttons explained, watching as the Twins as they took their seats at their identical mahogany desks. All four waited a bit before the silence became a bit tense. Two-Face can sometimes take awhile, so Buttons opened up conversation.

"How goes business?" He asked the Twins. "Same old." Tomax began. "Same old." Xamot finished.

"What took you so long?" Melanie suddenly snapped. "We saw you arrive an hour ago!" The Twins exchanged looks, surprised at the sudden rudeness of the jealous, but typically composed Melaine.

"We were," Tomax began. "Primping." Xamot finished and strangely without shame. "One has to keep a good appearance." They said in unison. This statement only fueled Melanie's foul temper.

"You two are ALWAYS late and yet you're my husband's most trusted advisors! If I become tardy, will I rise in rank?" The Twins were no longer surprised, but irritated. This attack was completely uncalled for and the Twins leaned forward to better glare at Melanie.

"That's hitting," Tomax began. "A little too close to home, Ten." Xamot finished. "We earned our position by skill and trust with your husband. Can you say the same?" They concluded.

"How dare you imply..."

"Never mind Ten." Buttons interrupted. "It is... uh... that time of the month."

"Oohhh." The Twins said easing back into their chairs again. The Twins sometimes forgot that Melanie was a woman at times and such things as PMSing had to be forgiven. This was the first time, however, that anyone but Two-Face got the 'privilege' to experience it.

"And to think we were," Xamot mused. "About to defend our honor." Tomax ended with a grin. "Is it always this bad?"

"No, it's usually worse!" Buttons replied.

"How dare you!" Melanie shrieked.

"Calm down Melanie." Tomax said in a soothing voice. "Can't we offer you a drink?" Xamot propose.

"Not on your life." Melanie growled. "And STOP TALKING LIKE THAT!"

"Talking like," Tomax began. "What?" Finish Xamot with a fained look of innocence.

"That! Stop finishing each other's sentences! Why do you do it! You know it drives everyone crazy!"

"Well, you just answered," Xamot began with a grin. "You're own question." Finished Tomax.

At ther front entrance of the Extensive Enterprises, a 1958 Plymouth Fury car pulls up to the side of the building. It is a fantastic metallic purple and gold two-door with tinted windows and a huge hood emblem. It takes on the personality of its owner by its half-normal and half-acid-etched textured appearance. If one should look under the opening hood, they could see the half-and-half textured engine. The front door of the car opens as a sophisticated thud of a Italian white right shoe and a black leather shoe alternating with each foot as a strange man stepped out of the vehicle that he parked.

One half of his father's old Armani suit is white and the other side black. Inside his dress coat his dress shirt had one side black while the other was red. It was the same with the tie he wore; one side on the right red while on the left black.

Both of his arms draped a blonde headed women, thier names Delia and Deidre Dennis aka the Dee-Dee twins.

The one on his left, Delia, wore a lace shoulderless, long-sleeved shirt with a silver mini skirt. While the right, Deidre, wore a black lace up corset top with hanging tails and a black dress with splits raising up her waist. "What's the problem baby?" she told to her boss as he looked at the ground. "Yeah, what's the matter with you?" Her twin asked. Two-Face looks at both of them and groaned. "Girls... you're on the WRONG SIDE!"

The Dee-Dee Twins jumped when their boss snapped at them and switched places. A boy walks up to Two-Face and says to him, "Hey mister, for fifty cents, I'll watch your car."

Two-Face looks at the boy with a smirk on his face. "Maybe you should. Tell you what, let's toss for it. Clean side, you watch my crate and I'll give you Two dollars. Marred side... I shoot you and leave your body in my Plymouth as a warning for people to leave my car alone." He flips his trademark coin into the air and it came down good side up. "Here's a Toonie, look after my car." as he gave the boy a two dollar coin and walked into the building with the Dee-Dee Twins.

When they reached the top floor of the building, Two-Face greeted his gang that waited for him, "Welcome one and all to my latest scheme. I..." Two-Face paused as he surveyed a seething Melanie, two smug twins, and once utterly exasperated Buttons. "Have you people been fighting again? How is it that every time I don't show up early you all end up annoying each other?"

"It's all the twins fault!" Melanie shouted suddenly. Tomax and Xamot jumped to their feet.

"She started it!" They declared, each pointing a finger in her direction. Meanwhile, Two-Face took a moment to rub his forehead and sigh.

"Annie, no one likes a tattle tale." He said finally. It would have been wise for Melanie to stop her complaining here, but the female cycle makes fools of rational women.

"You always let them get away with everything!" She cried. "It's bloody favoritism!"

"When you get a real job and completely fund the forces of my empire, I'll let you get away with things too." Two-Face replied. "Now, onto business..." as he told them of his plan, "Thanks to The Merovingian, I decided to make a comeback to this wretched city with a plan but in order to execute the plan, I will need the firepower to go along with it."

"Boss," Buttons stated to his employer, "I manage to secure a deal tonight with a client of mine that will get you what you want."

Two-Face turned to his bodyguard, "Take some men with you and see to it that it gets done. And remember, I want no fowl ups."

"Yes sir." Buttons replied, just as he was about to leave he turn to his employer, "Um... Boss, what about Miss Jest? Will she be joining us on this caper too?" He asked.

Two-Face turned his loyal henchman, "I'm afraid Harl won't be joining us at all, in fact she's no longer part of this organization all togather." as he thought back to his final day with her.

Flashback...

"This seat taken?"

Harley Jest looked up to see her employer and lover Jeffery Dent aka Two-Face II. She motioned for him to sit down. He smiled in the way she had come to know recently. It had been a while, especially since after the wedding but Harley, however, had called to meet him at a coffee shop outside of Gotham.

"You look good," Two-Face said. He set down a cup of coffee and leaned forward, his hands folded.

"You too." Harley twirled a look strand of her hair and looked out the window.

"I take it this isn't a social call."

"Deuce, after that day with us being as lovers, you knew what could happen. We talked about it. If it came up..."

"You're pregnant?" He asked.

"Yeah."

Two-Face leaned back in his seat and grabbed his coffee. He took a long drink and set it back down.

"Wow."

"And... I'm keeping the baby."

"Oh..."

"That isn't a problem, is it? I thought about it, for quite awhile. I wanted to be able to tell you everything. It's just, I know I've always wanted kids, and, well, you're a noble guy Deuce, well half of you that is."

"It's just... What do I tell..."

"You don't have to tell her anything, Deuce. Blondie knew from the very begining and she's ok with it. I have decided that I'm leaving the gang, kidnapping, extortion, grand theft, assault... it's been fun, Deuce - but fun's over. Time for this gal to settle down."

Two-Face gave her a startled look.

"While I appreciate the look, you're the only one who'd be surprised."

"I'm just..."

"This is all new to you."

"I need some time to process this."

"Take all the time you want. You have my number, right?"

"Right."

The two were silent. Two-Face took another sip of his coffee. As he put down his coffie, he looked deep at her eyes. "Half of me, will always love you."

She smiled back, "And I love you too."

End of flashback...

Location: Abandoned Warehouse - Night

Darkness. Cold, hard rain pattered downward, unseen, but distinctly felt with each individual plop. Thunder moaned across the sky, growling quietly to itself. A faint beep... beep... beep could be heard as well, the sound of an eight-wheeler slowly backing up on the wet pavement.

It was entering the rectangle of light which marked a garage door. Lengthened shadows stretched from the men in the rain, one waving his arms to direct the driver. Two others displayed large, silver guns held in both hands.

The storm growled again, then exploded with a crack and a flash of powerful lightening. Another figure was distinguished from the darkness for a brief moment, sitting sideways on the warehouse wall. The light faded a second later, and he was shrouded in darkness again. Rain struck his sleek form, slipped, and dripped on as if he wasn't there at all. Only a pair of triangular white eyes could be seen. Only a whisper could be heard.

"Big shipment, armed guards, late night. What are the chances this little transaction is legal?"

The silent reply was heard only through a tiny radio. "Just make sure you know what you're up against before you jump in."

There was a faint creak as a ventilation shaft opened. "Don't worry," the first voice said. "I got it covered."

The storm voiced its disdain.

The truck driver had parked within the garage now, meeting the other men near the rear wheels.

"Shut the doors. We don't need company for this." Their watcher Buttons McBoomBoom smiled to himself as the doors closed them in. One of the thugs checks the driver's body for any concealed weapons but didn't find any. "He's clean." The thug stated.

"Let's see the merchandise." Buttons stated

"Cash first," said the scrawny, blonde truck driver. He held up his cred scanner.

Buttons reached into his jacket and pulled out a cred card. The truck driver ran it down the slot and watched the numbers scroll up to a stunning $22,000,000. Buttons leaned against his bright red sports car parked nearby. His arms were folded as he calmly stated, "I trust the amount is satisfactory."

"Oh yes." The truck driver smiled, victory gleaming in his eyes. He moved over to open the back of the truck, saying, "And I think you'll find the firepower just as satisfying."

He suddenly lurched off-balance. The truck driver hit his back, tied by a bola. His baseball cap went flying.

Guns swung into their upright and locked positions. Eyes scanned the ceiling, catching sight of a bladed, black and red figure as it dove toward them. Bright wings cutting through the darkness. Bullets cut to meet them, but their target was too fast, descending on one gunman and knocking him over. He landed between two others, kicking them both to the floor.

Buttons bent over and snatched the cred card from the truck driver's hand. "Deal's over."

Their attacker retreated a few steps as bullet fire resumed. The hog-tied truck driver glared at him, hissing, "You idiot, you're ruining everything!"

Batman turned to him, a smile on his dark mask. "That's what I'm here for."

An armed man in dark sunglasses suddenly found his lenses cracked from an incredibly hard blow. As his partner received the same treatment, a thug jumped into the sports car next to Buttons. The key card was inserted and they squealed forward, a little too fast - fishtailing into a pile of crates.

The one man still standing reached into his trench coat with a crazed look in his eyes. He pulled out two huge guns and fired rapidly, teeth gnashing. Batman ran out of the way, feeling a few stinging blasts through his partially laser-proof suit. He dove behind a second pyramid of crates, hearing a roar as the bullets ricocheted behind him.

The red convertible zoomed forward again, stopping behind the armed maniac. He up the hood, cleared the windshield, and landed in the back seat, turning once more to fire as the car squealed toward the crates.

Batman shoved the boxes forward. The pyramid tumbled into the air and above the sleek car. The men gave a shout and blasted the crates, only to find that they were filled with explosives. Colorful flares billowed into the air in a hot cloud of doom. Buttons pressed his foot onto the excellerator, racing forward. They blew straight into the flame.

On the other side of the cloud, Batman only had time to see them emerge before the car struck his thigh. He tumbled over the hood, up the windshield, over three angry armed men, and into the truck, crushing its pressure pad.

The garage door opened as the car drove into the rain.

The truck bed slid open as well. More armed men jumped out. Durable, black and white clothes, deft feet, heavy guns. They jumped over Batman and fired after the escaping sports car, twenty screaming roaring weapons.

A single voice stopped them in an instant: "Hold your fire!"

The policemen ceased, lowering their guns as Commissioner Barbara Gordon approached. Her lips were pursed tightly. Her cool rage could only be seen in her eyes as she drew close, hands in her coat pockets.

A policeman was undoing the bola around the truck driver's arms. "He blew the whole sting again, Commissioner!" the driver sneered.

Batman stood at the edge of the crowd, full of disbelief. "I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

"Sorry doesn't begin to cut it! This is the second time you interfered with police business." Barbara snapped. The same angry glare was reflected in the faces of the other cops. Thunder rolled.

Without another word, Barbara walked away again. Batman stepped out into the rain, barely feeling the cold hard drops against his suit. In a sudden burst of anger, he shot into the sky, straight into the heart of the storm.

Location: The Batcave beneath Wayne Manor

Terry pulled off the wet mask, running his fingers through the dry, thick hair that had been pressed beneath it. The silence was unbearably heavy tonight. The boy's dark glare mirrored the one on his mask.

Bruce stood next to the computer console, watching mutely as Terry stomped toward his backpack to retrieve his civillian clothes.

"What happened?" Bruce asked his student.

"I just won the award for biggest screw-up on the planet again." Terry angerly stated

Bruce didn't reply as Terry stepped out of sight to change his clothes. Within two minutes he stepped out again, stuffing his suit into his pack and walking toward the stairs. "I'll see you tomorrow," he growled.

It wasn't long after he left that Bruce received a vid-call.

Location: Wayne Manor - the next evening

Light was fading. Day was cooling. The sun was still trying to shed some gold onto the world, and the house's tall windows let a lot of it in, as well as a faint breeze. The trees outside conveyed nothing but silence; it was a good place to be when you wanted to forget about Gotham. And then, it wasn't.

Barbara sipped her tea, then smiled. "Not bad," she said.

Sitting across from her with a good solid coffee table between them, Bruce replied, "I learn from the best. If only I could figure out how Alfred made those little Crumpets." Bruce's smile abruptly fell, and he set his cup down. "Alright. We've done the ligitmate small talk."

"Did he tell you what happened?" Barbara asked.

"I heard some mistakes were made."

"Mistakes?" The Commissioner stood, suddenly angry. "It took us twelve months to set up that sting. We almost had Buttons McBoomBoom, my men put their lives on the line for it. You read his file right?"

"Yes I have, real name: Constantine Saunders. Known other aliases include: Nicky 'Itchy Finger' Johnson, Smokin' Joe and Rub-Out Robinson. Wanted for armed robbery, operating a Tommy Gun without a license, and target shooting in a heavily inhabited urban zone." Bruce clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them.

"However, he was never convicted, as no witnesses were willing to come forth to testify against him. And thanks to your prot g , we might not get a second chance to nab him." Barbara said

"The boy is still learning." Bruce replied

"The boy is a hot-head!" She stated

Bruce folded his arms, stubbornly refusing to stand and join in the rant. Before she could continue, Bruce sent her a meaningful look. "Do you remember the nightmares you used to have? Your greatest fears?"

Barbara's eyes flickered, but she continued to determinedly stand. "Maybe those things should have happened."

"Maybe." Bruce hid whatever hurt he may have felt. It had been buried a long time ago.

"You listen here," Barbara said, her voice low and cold. "This had better be the last time my department has to clean up after either of you. I mean it, Bruce."

Bruce pushed himself to his feet; now he was looking down at her. "Is that a threat?"

She glared back at him, undaunted. "That's a fact."

Without another word, she turned to leave. She'd never taken off her coat. Neither bothered to utter a good-bye as Barbara made her way across the silent carpet, up the dais, and to the door. It closed firmly.

A curtain stirred. Terry stepped into the open, looking to Bruce for some sort of reassurance. Judging by the look he was getting, it seemed Bruce wasn't particularly pleased with him, either.

Location: Gibson Residence - Night

"I was refered to as a hot head," Terry said darkly. He was lounging on his best friend's couch, one foot on the arm rest.

Max shrugged, a pained look on her face. "Well..."

"Max!"

"Just kidding!"

"I don't feel like kidding."

Max gave him a motherly look. "Forget what they say. You're good. I've seen you, remember? Everyone makes mistakes."

Moping, Terry muttered, "Nobody can afford to."

Max's siamese cat, Spizzer, walked across the back of the chair. Max scooped him up and stroked his head. Some shedded fur drifted into the air. Terry watched with a distant look in his eyes, wishing once again that his problems were as easily solved as the cat's.

"It just feels like there's some sort of tag hanging off my ear that says 'Loser'."

"No," Max replied, "it says something like 'Overworked,' 'Unappreciated.' Or maybe 'Lacking Self Esteem'."

"Or maybe lacking what it takes."

"You know what?" Max set Spizzer down as she leaned forward. "I think you should just forget everything they said about you and prove to everyone - including yourself - that you are worthy. Just by trying."

"Oh, and I sure try. Back there, Max, he almost defended me. Almost. But you should have seen the look he gave me."

"The 'Unworthy' tag?"

"Bingo."

Max took his hand and squeezed it tightly. Terry was surprised at the trust he saw in her eyes. "You'll show them."

To be continued...


	8. Split Decisions

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 8: Split Decisions

Author's Notes: Wow, 37 reviews! Thanks so much! We love them ;)

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Downtown, Gotham City - Night

Three members of the T's flew through a glass window into the streets of level 51 in front of reporters and cops as more ran out the door.

The T's were a street gang in the future Gotham City. Led by the aptly-named Fat T, they had a violent, years-long rivalry with the Jokerz, but were not above tormenting innocent people. While the Jokerz wore a wide variety of clown-themed costumes, the T's held to a very strict dress code: White body paint covering all visible parts of the body, with a bright-red 'T' over the face. They also wore distinctive black clothing, sometimes with a grey overcoat. One ran to an old woman in a trench coat.

"He's-He's killin' us!" he cried.

"Get this guy out of my sight!" she ordered.

"Yes, Commissioner Gordon!" the cops responded, carrying him away.

Commissioner Barbara Gordon looked from him to the now visible scene inside the dance club. Inside, a man in all black with pointed ears on his mask and a red bat symbol battled a large, heavily armored man.

"I must say, Stan," Batman said. "You've out done yourself this time. Honestly! Hiring T's to help you destroy people's lives was absolutely brilliant! Dumb, but brilliant!"

"Shut up, Batman! You wouldn't understand my objective!" Mad Stan yelled.

He ran and slammed a fist into Batman. Batman sailed across the room and went clear through the steel wall, into the street.

"I swear!" he yelled, leaping to his feet and turning to Barbara Gordon. "He must be like Bane's kid or-"

"Batman, look out!" she cried.

"Wha-?" He spun around, just to be greeted by flames as the ground exploded in front of him. He sailed back and slammed into the front of a fire truck. He slid down and onto his knees.

"Are you okay?" Detective Darcy Alcana exclaimed.

"Oh, oh, that was NOT smart, Stan!" Batman yelled, standing and walking past the cop as he held his ribs. "I *tried* to be nice! I TRIED to be patient! And it explodes in my face!" he yelled, wiping blood off his face.

"Whatcha gonna do about it?" Stan challenged.

Barbara put a hand over her eyes and shook her head.

"Not smart, Mad Stan," she mumbled as Batman shot past on his jet boots.

After several crashes and flying debris, there was silence. Barbara looked up to see a wall had fallen on the two.

"Commissioner?" Detective Jesse Reese asked, not sure what to do.

"Get them OUT of there!" she ordered. "Hurry!"

Cops ran to do so, but drew back as the rubble shifted. They aimed their guns, ready for Stan. Batman came out first, though, dragging Mad Stan behind him. He tossed Stan to the cops and walked to Barbara in a limp, wiping off his hands.

"Nothing like a wall falling on you to start the evening off right, eh Commish?" he asked, half grinning.

"Are you okay, kid?" she asked.

"Oh yeah. Peachy. Lets see, years ago started off with Inque, then the Stalker, and oh, we can't forget Spellbinder and Willy Watt... And Cynthia the synthoid... Now this! Couldn't be better! Now, if you'll excuse me."

He pushed a button on his utility belt. Seconds later, the Batmobile was hovering over them. Using his jet boots, he flew up into it and sped off.

Location: Wild Deuce 2 Club, Gotham City - Night

Two-Face was able to gather some men to work for him, and if need be, probably more. He was also in one of his father's old hideouts, a derelict club called 'Wild Deuce 2' as a headquarters that the cops and The Batman never learned about. He stands in the middle of a large room half of it carefully groomed, half of it violently destroyed.

Using underworld connections and his resources Two-Face had easily been able to buy off a few mid-level soldiers of a former Russian Mob Boss named Yuri Dimitrov aka Tarzan. His nickname 'Tarzan' came from his impressive physique, occasionally wild behavior and at one point long hair. The group's chain of command is in continuous disarray, with Two-Face leading while those beneath him continually jockey for more power. Its members are ruthless, lacking mercy or concern for collateral damage.

The thugs are all ex-military, banded together to carve out power and wealth for themselves. They control dockyards and shipping, smuggling assault rifles, high-end weapons, and explosives. They tote heavy fire power and lots of it.

Two-Face was in his room in deep thought as he fliped his trademark coin over and over without looking at it, "I have thought long about the dual identity of the Bat. The mask he wears is but one identity - there is another beneath the mask. He also is a man of two faces. After much thinking, it has become obvious that whoever that second man is, he knew me as Jeffery Dent. Batman's frequent attempts to 'help' me; the fact that he always calls me 'Jeffery'; his familiariy with my dear Melanie - these all point to someone I knew well."

He paused for a moment and then continued, "But who? The Merovingian said the answers must lie in the past, before the stroke of chance that made me Two-Face. I shall seek out those of my past, and I shall seek them out in pairs: first one enemy, then one friend. For only those two types of people knew me so well. And while I take my revenge upon those who attacked or aided me, I shall also see what they know of The Bat; I shall use them to lure him out; and should he emerge, or his other face be revealed, then the coin shall determine his fate: death or capture. Then we shall see what the shadowy silhouette has to say."

Jon Roscetti hadn't been working at his new job for so long. So when he heard his boss arguing with someone down the hall, he decided to check in on him. After all, one of his duties was to make sure the boss was always safe. Jon crept down the dimly lite hallway of the club. The two voices grew louder. "...Two of everything, that's what we need," said the first voice. The man sounded calm, and Jon instantly recognized it as the voice of his boss.

"But it's not enough," said the second voice in an angry growl. "Think about it. Yeah, we got all the obvious things. Two cars, two houses, all of that. But it's not about possessions. They won't help us beat The Batman."

"I don't understand," said Jon's boss.

Jon crept closer. He saw a shadowy figure in the dark bedroom of the club. But he couldn't see who his boss was arguing with.

"No, you obviously don't understand," said the harsh voice. "And that's why we're not complete."

"Complete?" asked Jon's boss.

"There's only one of us!" said the angry voice. "It doesn't work. We can't win without a partner." A bolt of lighting illuminate the room. "Hm," Jon's boss said, momentarily bathed in light. "A partner?"

Jon's boss used to be a good-looking man. In fact the newspapers had called him 'Handsome Jeff' once. But that was years ago - before the accident. "That's right," the angry voice said, "A partner. There has to be two. Another one just like us."

"What about Annie? Isn't she like us? She wears our trademark colors when she's in that costume of hers." Jon's boss stated to the other.

"You're right, she does, doesn't she?" said the angry voice.

"Indeed, so the real question is, who else can we bring down to our level?" Jon's boss asked

As Jon continued to look into the room, he accidently pushed the door forward. The door swayed on it's hinges and let out a soft creak. Jon's boss turned around and looked at him. Now his full face could be seen in the moonlight. Half was indeed handsome, but the other side was scarred and reddish. It made perfect sense that after the accident, Jeffery Dent had renamed himself Two-Face II like his father before him.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Two-Face growled.

Jon turned and ran back down the hall in a panic. He would never get used to the way his new boss looked. It was something out of a horror movie.

"As we were saying," Two-Face said to himself. "Who do we make just like us?" Two-Face smiled. He answered himself in a calm voice, "It's obvious. Terrence McGinnis. Godfather's errand boy." Two-Face took out a special coin out of his pocket. He always left important decisions up to chance - heads or tails, yes or no. He flipped the coin into the air and snatched it quickly with the other hand. When he slapped it down on the back of his hand, the weird coin's scarred side was facing up.

Two-Face's lips curled into a sinister smile. "Soon," he thought out loud to himself, "Terrence McGinnis will come face to face with a side of himself that he's never seen! HAHAHAHAHA!"

Jon continued down the hall but what he failed to noticed was that someone was infront of him and collided with that person. As they both fell to the ground, Jon took the time to gather his sights and looked at the girl he bumped into, "I'm sorry, here let me help you up." He offer his hand to the blonde girl named Melanie.

"I'm fine, thank you," she said as she got up, "Can you explain to me, why you were running?" she asked

Jon was nervous, "Well, have you seen that man's face?" He pointed to where his employer was, "How can you work for that freak?"

Melanie's eyes burned with raw hatred when he said that, without warning she grabbed his neck and pinned him againest the wall, "You listen here punk, that 'freak' is my husband and show some respect, he did alot of things other so-called villains and mobs only dreamed off. Ya got that."

He shook his head twice as she let goes of him and watches him scurry off down the hall.

Location: Second National Bank, Gotham City 2:22 PM - Day

It was quiet outside the Second National Bank in downtown Gotham City. Most of the local business people had gone home after a long day of work. Scraps of paper blew across the otherwise empty street. It had all the markings of a dull summer day. The two men stood on top of the roof, of the building over looking the large, stainless steel bank.

"2:22 right on the dot," one of the men said, turning to his partner, "you know why they call the boss Two-Face II."

"Guy thinks he's the son of the original Two-Face," the other man replied, as he set up the grappling hook launcher, "right down to his obsession with the number 2."

The first man peered through his binoculars, as the crowds began gathering for the end of the business day.

"Looks like a full house," the man said, giving the signal for his partner to fire the grappling hook. The sound of gunfire echoed across the mid after noon sky, a bright silver grappling hook struck the side of a small storage shed on the roof of the bank, one by one the two men made their way across the rope, via a pulley

Location: Black Limo, Alleyway - Day

"Looks like they're away boss," one of the Dee-Dee Twins Delia said, looking into the back of the car. The shadowy figure reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a small silver dollar.

"Good heads, we leave them alone." the man said, as he flipped the coin over, revealing the other side to be scarred and deformed, "Bad heads, we hit them hard." With that he tossed the coin into the air, and quickly caught it and it showed bad side up.

"Tell the boys to proceed with the next phase," the figure replied.

"Right Boss," the Dee-Dees replied together, as they reached for the car's holophone, "Proceed to stage two gentlemen."

Location: Roof top of the bank - Day

One of the men stood on the edge of the roof, scanning the horizon. A few seconds later, he spotted a small flashing light coming from the near by alley.

"That's the boss's signal," he said, motioning to his partner, who gave a thumbs up. The other man ripped open a large circuit breaker, and proceeded to cut the wires connecting the silent alarm to the rest of the bank.

"Strange," the man said, "it didn't send out a call to the cops," he paused for a moment, "looks like it's dialing a private number, what kind of bank does that?"

"Mob Bank," the other man replied, as he pulled out a flair gun, and fired it into the air, "Guess the boss is as crazy as they say."

Location: Main Lobby - Day

For the tellers the day was just about over, as they finished waiting on the last few customers that were making their withdrawals and deposits. However the few murmers soon turned to screams as the glass doors suddenly blew inwards, as a large hover car plowed through the door, stopping about half way in.

"Everybody Down!" shouted the Dee-Dee Twins, as they emerged from the limo, firing their Heckler and Koch MP5/40 submachine guns into the air. The Dee-Dees like its accuracy, reliability, and sleekness about it as well as its powerful cartridge and mounted holographic site. Everyone stopped what their doing and looked at the Twins with horrified looks to their faces. The Dee-Dees weren't amused.

"We said DOWN!" they shouted as they let off another burst from their weapons. This time everyone complied with their demands as they all hit the ground, as fast as they could. The Twins parted ways as their boss, made his way into the bank, with a Olympic Arms OA-93 Machine Pistol with 90 rounder drums and neon detailing, clenched tightly in his hand. He stood in the room and surveyed the crowd.

He was seen in a suit where the jacket and trousers are on the same side of his body as the unscarred side of his face had a plain orangeish-tan, the shirt white, and the necktie gray. The suit on the scarred side was purple with criss-cross lines, the shirt was blue, and the necktie red with even tighter criss-cross. His right shoe is brown, complementing the orange-tan suit color rather nicely, and his left shoe is black, which goes well with the dark bluish-purple.

What drew the onlookers, however was his horribly divided face with its calm smile on one side and its grotesque red leer on the other.

"Do ya believe that getup? And that mug!" a tough-looking man with a squashed-in nose remarked to the woman at his side. "Man, he's even uglier then he looks on TV when he was caught before."

The divided man lifted his hand to his smooth dark, neatly groomed hair on the right side of his head, then moved to pat the tangled grass green locks on the uncombed left.

With him was his bodyguard and right hand man, Buttons McBoomBoom holding a fully-upgraded M1928 Thompson Sub-Machine gun with a scope attachment. Two-Face scowled at the people trembling on the floors, then smiled his ghastly smile at them.

"Don't bother to adjust the picture," Two-Face said, harshly, "For the next two minutes, I'm in control." Then he turns to his accomplices "Grab the money girls."

"Right away boss," the Dee-Dees replied. One started collecting the cash from the tellers. The other had made her way to the vault, and slowly cut her way through the steel door, and began grabbing every credit that wasn't nailed down, from the corner of her eye, she spied something that was worth a lot more then a few credits, a box of 19th Century Silver Dollars.

"Hey Two-Face," Delia said, bringing the box out, "look at this, must be a couple of hundred rare silver dollars."

"Bring it," Two-Face replied.

The other twin Deidre, pried the vault door open, and began gathering the stacks of money, suddenly she spoted a diamond ring on one of the hostages.

"I'll take that," she said, with a sinister smile to her face.

"Jewelry wasn't part of the plan." Two-Face said, grabbing her by the arm as his eyes narrowed. He paused to think, coming to a quick decision. "If you want it, you gotta flip for it."

"What?" Deidre stated with a surprised look as Two-Face flipped the coin into the air and caught it with his hand.

"Good side," Two-Face said, "leave it."

"But, but Two-Face," Deidre protested, just as Two-Face went up to her and slapped it out of the girl's hand.

"I said," Two-Face snarled, "LEAVE IT!"

Silently, Deidre gathered up the bags of loot, while Delia shouldered the ornate box full of silver coins. They finished gathering all of the stolen goods and headed towards their getaway car. Two-Face stood with his feet apart, his machine pistol trained on the crowd as his henchgirls hurried from the joint. Just before Two-Face got in, he turned to face everyone.

"Before I go," Two-Face said, "I want you all to give Commissioner Gordon and her pet Bat a message for me. I'll try to make it an easy one for you to remember." He fired his Machine Pistol at the security cameras destroying them in the process. The elegantly men and women flatten against the floor, their eyes clenched shut in terror as the bizarre criminal sprayed the walls of half the room with bullets.

"And now..." Two-Face lifted the nose of his weapon in a mock salute, "Enjoy the rest of your evening!" Just as he was about to get into the limo, he heard the sound of a sawed-off Remington 870 shotgun firing.

"Hold it," a man named Roger Van Zant shouted, emerging from the manager's office, "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO YOU'RE STEALING FROM?" Two-Face simply sighed, as he flipped his coin.

"Indeed," Two-Face said, smirking, "Of course I am a gambling man," without even looking he fired his machine pistol, striking the man in the heart, "and you just lost." With that he boarded the hover limo.

"Okay girls," Two-Face continued, "let's get out of here before the cops," he breathed heavily, "or The Bat show up." Then he noticed that Buttons wasn't with them, "Where's Buttons?" he asked the girls.

They shrugged their shoulders as Two-Face turned around to see Buttons outside the bank's entrance with the bag of money over his shoulder. "Make sure the reporters spell my name right! It's McBoomBoom. That's one 'Mc' and two Booms."

"BUTTONS, QUIT STALLING AND GET IN HERE!" Two-Face yelled out to his henchman. Buttons turned and ran to the Limo and got in. "Now let's split." Two-Face stated to his gang.

"Right Two-Face," the Dee-Dees said, in unison, as they pulled out into a break in the traffic, and vanished from sight.

Location: Gotham City Police Department - Day

Detective Jesse Reese slid backwards into his chair and sighed. It was slow. For once. He should have been pleased. Hell, even thankful. He knew better. The quiet wasn't calm; it was a distraction meant to hide the ugliness of the night from anyone who might give a damn enough to try to make a difference.

He tapped his pen against the polished wood of his desk. He chuckled a bit then as he contemplated the benefits of a detectives' shield. Get a promotion, get a sweet desk and a heavy paperweight that doubled as a name plaque. Being a cop was great like that. Bad coffee and thugs trying to pump you full of lead. And that was breakfast.

Really though, it was all very easy. Good guys, bad guys. You dealt. You figured out which was which and you handled them accordingly. The bad guys got punished for their crimes. They did their time. The good guys lived free. Worked in theory anyways. But lately things had gotten complicated. Something about the current Batman was new to him. The type that burned you to the bone by the end of it. He had moved on from that with just a few more scars and a few more horror stories.

"Hey Jesse, you're up," His partner Darcy Alcana said from the doorway. "You got reports of gunfire down at the Second National Bank."

He stood up and stretched. His back cracked loudly beneath the effort. He sighed a bit, more exhausted than he had anticipated. He blamed her really; she was keeping him up at night. But that was another issue altogether.

To Be continued...


	9. Dark Times

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 9: Dark Times

Author's Notes: 41 reviews, thanks so much :)

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Back Alley, The old Gotham Arms Hotel, Downtown - Day

In the 21st century megalopolis that was Gotham City, there were few reminders, outside of the city's historical district, of the old Gotham. The Gotham Arms Hotel, had once been a hot bed for the criminals and the corrupt that ruled old Gotham with an iron hand, back in the day. Sitting right the border that separated the upscale sections of the city from the slums and the narrows, the hotel had seen everything from bribery to political assassination. When Gotham's modernization began in the early 21st century, many sought to have the old hotel torn down, but they were voted down and the hotel was preserved as a historic landmark.

As the years passed, the Gotham Arms became a forgotten relic, still consumed by it's past. It had long since fallen into disrepair, it's paint long since faded and weather worn, many of it's windows had long been smashed out by gangs, and the scares of a fire from a few years prior were still visible. Despite it's status as a historic landmark, the Gotham Arms was still known as a hive of crime and corruption, as was evident from the line of high-end hover cars, that were lined up out front, and the well dressed crime lords who emerged from them.

Location: Kitchen, Hotel - Day

A well dressed woman with blue eyes, black hair with a white lock was known only as Lula as she made her way through a Metal Detector, which had been set up near the entrance of the kitchen and had been manned by two Chinese guards, who ordered to shoot on sight with out question, if the detector went off. Lula was some what known in the underworld, many for her ties to the Derby: a high stakes poker game that's been around since before Bruce Wayne was Batman.

However the Derby had taken on a different form since Batman had last been seen, instead of a poker game, it had become a brutal gladiatorial battle, for the amusement of Gotham's most powerful crime lords and corrupt politicians, where the winner was the one who survived the longest, and the competitors were usually those who owed debts to the mob or vagrants plucked from the homeless shelters, parks, and alley ways by Lula's men, facing off against Enforcers who had been spliced with the DNA of the most dangerous animals on Earth. Lula may have been the only woman in the Derby, but she was smarter, quicker, and by far more dedicated to her money.

Lula turned to see an African American man who moved through the detector under the impassive gazes of two Chiniese with pistols shoved into their belts. He was typically dressed as a valet and also in his 50's. His right eye was severely damaged in a gang war, but was at some point replaced with a golden cybernetic eye during his travels. This eye grants him extended visual powers, such as magnified long-range vision and X-ray vision.

"You Manute? From east side?" she asked the fellow crimelord.

"Yeah," Manute replied.

Location: Confrence Room, Hotel - Day

Lula and Manute had made their way into the large conferance room, where the other mob bosses and gang leaders had gathered, an ethically mixed array of middle-aged men, most of them wearing expensive suits. A door on the far side of the room suddenly flew open, and two burly Chinese guards who could have been twins of the pair at the metal detector made their way in, carrying a large holographic projector.

"What the hell is this?" Lula said, as the two men sat the projector down in the center of the large table. The projector flickered to life flickers reaveling the image of a well dressed Chinese man known as Wong Shen Tai, but referred to as Mr. Wong. Mr. Wong is a Chinese businessman and mobster, who ran a Chinese restaurant chain and media conglomerate as cover for his criminal activities.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Wong began, "As you're all aware, one of our deposits was stolen. A relatively small amount: 22 million."

"Who's stupid enough steal from us?" Lula inquired.

"I'm told," Wong continued, "the man who arranged the heist calls himself Two-Face II."

"Who the hell is that?" Lula inquired.

"Two-bit whack-job wears a cheap split suit," Manute said, "Thinks he's the son of the original Two-Face. He's not the problem. Last I heard he was in New Arkham," he shifted his gaze towards Wong, "The problem is our money being tracked by the cops." The other mob bosses looked at each other in surprise.

"Thanks to Manute's well-placed sources in the GCPD," Wong continued, "we know that police have indeed identified our banks using marked bills and are planning to seize your funds today." Before Wong had a chance to finish his sentence, everyone started shouting at once.

"You promised us safe," Lula shouted, "clean money launder..."

"With the investigation on going," Wong continued, "none of you can risk hanging on to your own proceeds. Since the enthusiastic D.A. Sam Young and Old Lady Gordon have put all my competitors out of business, I'm your only option."

"So what are you proposing?" Lula inquired.

"Moving all deposits," Wong replied, "to one secure location. Not a bank."

"Where then?" Mantue replied

"Obviously," Wong continued, "no one can know but me. If Gordon's people were to gain leverage over one of you, everyone's money would be at stake."

"What stops them from getting to you?" Lula inquired

"As the money is moved," Wong replied, "I go to Hong Kong. Far from Young's jurisdiction. As you all know the Chinese will not extradite one of their own."

"How soon can you move the money?" Lula asked.

"I already have. For obvious reasons, I couldn't wait for your permission. But rest assured, your money is safe." Before Wong could continue, he was suddenly cut off by the sound of a coin flip coming from the back of the room. All eyes turned to find a shadowy figure slowly making his way into the room.

One half of his Armani suit was a trim light gray over a navy blue silk shirt with a red tie that never seemed to go out of style, however, the left side was made of vertical black and white stripes like a decaying convict's suit over a purple shirt and black tie. However the man's face was truly frightening, while the right side seemed normal, the left was horrendously disfigured.

"And they call me Two-Faced." Two-Face said, laughing.

"Give me one good reason," Manute said, his eyes burning with fury, "Why I shouldn't have my boy here pull your faces off."

"Ok," Two-Face continued, ignoring Mantue's comment, "My suit wasn't cheap. You should know, you bought it, and I'd like to thank you for helping me get back on my feet." Manute leapt to his feet, furious. Before he had a chance to act, Lula stopped him.

"Wait," Lula said, "I wanna hear his proposition."

"Thank you," Two-Face said, nodding in thanks, "Years ago these cops and lawyers wouldn't dare cross any of you. What happened? Did your balls drop off? See, a guy like me..."

"A freak," Manute said, under his breath, The gangsters began to laugh, which Two-Face tried his best to ignore.

"A guy like me," Two-Face continued, "You see I know why you're holding your little group therapy session in broad daylight. I know why you're afraid to go out at night. Batman. He's shown Gotham your true colors again. You see Gordon and Young are just the beginning," he pointed to the Hologram, "as for his so-called plan - Batman has no jurisdiction, he's not bound by International Law, or politics. He'll find him and make him squeal." he smiled coldly, "I can tell the squealers every time."

"What do you propose then?" Lula inquired.

"It's simple," Two-Face continued, "In order for our kind to survive, we must kill The Batman." The sounds of laughter began echoing through the room.

"If it's so easy why haven't you done it already?" Manute inqured.

"Like my old man used to tell me," Two-Face continued, "if you're good at something, never do it for free."

"How much?" Lula inquired.

"I want half," Two-Face replied. The room once again exploded with laugher.

"Go ahead and laugh," Two-Face said, trying to ignore the laughter, "If you don't deal with this now, soon Manute here won't even be able to get a nickel for his grandma..."

"Enough from the freakshow." Manute, snarled as he stood up. Two-Face, sighed and casually snapped his fingers and a man in a purple 40s style suit, entered the room, and was soon standing in front of Manute with his coat open, revealing a cybernetic torso which bore twin machine guns.

Manute stopped in his tracks, breathing hard. Everyone in the room gasped and those who were sitting began to stand.

"Let's not blow this out of all proportion," Two-Face continued, Manute stared Two-Face and his bodyguard, Buttons McBoomBoom, his eyes burning with raw furry.

"You think you can steal from us and just walk away?" Manute snarled, "I'm putting the word out - 5 hundred grand per face for this freak dead. Four million alive, so I can teach him some manners, first." Two-Face smirked, he'd remembered his dad talking about how old Rupert Thorn had put a bounty on his head in a similar manner, before turning to the assembled.

"Let me know when you change your minds." Two-Face said, as he strolled out with his bodyguard making sure they weren't followed.

Lula decided she didn't like some fruitcake she knew nothing about sticking his nose where it didn't belong. She knew a private eye, ex-cop, kicked off the force for taking bribes, not for lack of ability. Ability-wise, he was as good as they get. Name of Christopher Nolan. Did some jobs for Lula now and then. Charged plenty, but always delivered.

Lula called Nolan and said, "I wanna know everything about this Two-Face down to his shoe size." and Nolan said, ""Gimme a couple weeks, I'll be in touch."

A couple weeks passed and Nolan called, "I ain't found nothing yet, gimme a little more time." Lula gave him a little more time.

A week later, Nolan showed up at the club in the middle of afternoon, drinking coffie from a plastic cup and looking like hell. He needed a shave and haircut. He had lost weight, and his suit was wrinkled and hanging off of him, his tie had a big gravy stain on it, and there were dark bags under both eyes. "...I dunno where to go next. Three weeks now, I been looking at this Two-Face and know what I see? Nothing. Driving me nuts. You sure he's real? You ain't imagining him, are you? Cause it's like he popped outta thin air or something."

Lula didn't like what she was hearing and said, "You ain't messing with me, are you? I'm thinking this Two-Face gets to you, slips you a little something to keep your mouth shut." and Nolan said, "You know that ain't me, Lula, hell you and me, we go way back." Then Nolan started to laugh, and the laughing got louder and pretty soon it wasn't much of a laugh as it was Nolan gasping for air. Nolan was choking, his eyes were bulging, his face was crimson. Lula yelled to a waiter to get him a glass of water, but by the time the waiter came with it, Nolan was dead.

Lula had her own personal doctor do an autopsy, but she should have saved the money. It didn't take a medico to figure out that Nolan was poisoned by the coffee he was drinking, anybody could've seen that, and as far for the rest... Okay, the poison was some kind of Hydrofluoric acid you can get in a lab, one of those places and who cares?

Location: Gotham City Police Department - Day

Detective Jesse Reese was sipping rancid coffie at his workstation of his cluttered Precinct One office, was finding it difficult to focus on the big case that had landed in his lap. He had a truckful of auto shotguns, an illegal weapons design that no one had known about till the night before; he had rumors of other radically designed weapons hitting the street.

Add to the mix the interesting complication that was Two-Face's bank heist and The Batman. Even though Jesse goes by the book and does not believe in vigilantism, which makes it hard for him to get along with Batman. He would willingly be a human-shield to protect the innocent but matters that involve The Dark Knight can get complicated. He believes in right and wrong. There is no in between. All of this, normally would consume his attention so thoroughly he'd forget to eat. But all he could think of, right now was his teenage son, Jacob.

'Should never have left the kid in Los Angeles with that bitch Miranda,' he thought, compressing the styrofoam cup in his fingers so that it was in danger of bursting. His ex-wife had seemed to be cleaning up her act, and after twelve years as a freelance detective, bodyguard, and skip tracer, Jesse had decided he needed the financial stability of the job offer with Gotham GCPD. Alimony was a bitch and to pay it and the child support he'd need a more consistent paycheck then he got working freelance.

Looking at the photo of him and Jacob together on the wall, several years outdated. Jesse holding up a couple of trout on a fishing line, Jacob offering up a frozen, ironic smile. Typical teenage distain. But it was still the best photo of Jacob that Jesse had. The kid hadn't smiled for the camera since then. Jesse took out his cell phone and speed dialed his ex.

When she answered, her voice was slurred, "Huh-loo-oo..."

"Miranda? It's Jesse, is the boy there? He asked

"Jacob? He's not back. Haven't heard from him. He's gone." She replied back

Jesse's heart sank but he managed to ask, "You okay?"

"I'm as good as I'm gonna be. Like you care if I'm okay. You're the one who left, not me." she sounded angry on the phone.

"You were loaded all the time." he stated to her.

"You didn't care. You just blew me off when I was having problems."

"Miranda, I tried for years... more then ten..."

"Now Jacob's left me, too. Now it's just me and the orange ovals. Me and the ovals. Jacob's gone and..."

"You know where he went to?" Jesse interupted.

"Almost four years you're over there in Gotham City, you see the kid only every couple months, all of a sudden it's where's Jacob, where's Jacob?"

"I wanted custody of him so he would see me all the time. You wouldn't give me custody."

"Kid needs his mama."

"Mama needs child support, you mean." He shouldn't get into it with her this way, he knew. But she knew how to get under his skin.

"Hey, kiss my ass, you're the one who left."

"He gets busted for tagging, drinking... you don't tell me for months, I have to find out from..."

"He hasn't got a father, what else is he going to do? He'll spray his name on buildings, he'll drink some hooch. Stole some of my pills too, if you wanna know. You're the one who..."

"You already said that three times. Where's the kid? You must have some clue. You looked for him?"

"I don't know Jesse. He's probably in Venice, or Santa Monica. He's got friends in Venice Beach. But I don't know where exactly I'm not going to go snooping in those places. Scary places the kid goes. No way."

"You called Cobie Chapman? I gave you his number, said I'd pay..."

"I don't want your sleazy bounty hunter friends after my son. The kid'll come back when he gets hungry, like a damn house cat."

"If he's..." He didn't want to say it. 'If he's not dead.'

"Where's my check?"

"I sent it already. Try getting up off the sofa and looking in the mailbox." He hung up and shook his head. The boy's resentment over the breakup and maybe over his mother's erratic behavior had erupted into some serious acting out. Three misdemeanor busts already. One for pot, one for underage drinking and one for vandalism. Worse, Jesse himself found a bindle of meth in the kid's bedroom, when he'd come to pick him up in LA. Left there by another kid, Jacob claimed. Jesse wanted to believe that story... He didn't want to think his son was becoming a fullblown drug addict. He knew the stats.

Some drug use was down, in some places, but crystal meth use was up across the board. GCPD routinely had to arrest paranoid kids, psychotic after a week without sleep. Sometimes, instead of having to arrest them, they had to scoop what was left of them from the cars wrapped around streetlight poles.

Commissioner Barbara Gordon had personally supervised the bust of one of the speed labs; Batman had left broken bones and smashed equipment at another. Groaning speed dealers eager to confess. "Just keep that Bat away from me!" But even Batman can't stop the tide of the toxic white powder. It was all over Gotham and it was all over LA.

"Detective Reese?" A voice called out to him.

Startled, Jesse looked up to see Barbara standing at the entrance to his office. "Commissioner? It's Jesse, you know."

"Jeese then. How are you doing? You're going to spill that coffee..." She noticed

"Uh... I'm ok, Commissioner I just... I was thinking about that pile of hardware we lucked onto."

"Wasn't luck. He busted that one open for us." Jesse knew who Barbara ment by He. Barbara rarely used the B-word around the precinct. He knew that Chief Rojas and The Mayor frown on "The Bat." Jesse himself had mixed feelings about Batman. Jesse had been something close to a vigilante himself, working as a skip tracer, chasing down guys who'd skipped on their bail out in LA. You could do some good, working around the edges of the law. And Batman had done a lot of good in the years or so he'd been flapping his cape over rooftops. On the other hand., Batman was technically a criminal. Guilty of breaking and entering (never had a warrant when he broke in on a criminal), assault (you couldn't say that every time he'd knocked around a punk he was stopping a crime; lots of times it was just interrogation) driving an illegal vehicle and there was probably. Hell, there were laws againest vigilantism itself.

"Yeah about him, Commissioner. You ever wonder how sane is a guy who dresses the way he does, and does the things he does? Night after night?" He asked

"Sure I wonder that myself." Even though she, herself was like him in her day, dressed up in a costume, fighting crime at his side. "But this is an insane world. People adapt. And the guy's got a mission... Hell, he is his mission." Jesse could hear the admiration in Barbara's voice. She wasn't objective where Batman was concerned. But then, if you stayed too coolheaded, did you get anything done?

Location: Gotham City Police Department - Day

In the visitor's center, one of the prisoners named Steve Brogan was talking to a young woman, with blonde hair tied in a pony tail and dressed in a bright red jacket and skirt, "A woman, a freakin woman!" He yelled at her behind the glass window.

"A woman, Mr. Brogan?" She asked

"Black vinyl bodysuit, long black boots, Some broad in a mask. Calls herself Black Scorpion." He stated.

"I was told it was The Bat who brought you down, Mr. Brogan." She pondered

"He showed later. But it was the bitch who put me in here. Busted up my whole operation in one night. She works with The Bat. Some kinda partner, or something. So there's two of them." He slammed his fist in anger.

She got up and grabbed her coat as the surprised gangster looked out, "Where you going?"

"I've heard quite enough, Mr. Brogan." she stated as she walked out of there.

"What about me? What's in this for me? I'm doin' a life-jolt here! Tell your Boss, I need some help here! Tell him not to forget me!" He screamed just as the guards came to take him back to his cell.

She turned her head to face him. "I'm certain he'll provid some recompense for your aid, Mr. Brogan." as she headed out the door.

"What's that mean, you louse?" The gangster replied back.

She exited the building and walked to the parked limo as she got in. The limo took off as she told her employer of what the Gangster told her.

"A woman...?" He stated in a gruff voice.

"That is what Steve Brogan admitted with some bitterness." She stated to him.

"That Bat has taken on an apprentice." Two-Face stated

"It would seem so."

"So what was one is now two." He smiled

She turned her head to face him, "Mr. Brogan was hoping for some sort of boon from you. I told him to expect such. That is, if what he related is of interest to you."

Two-Face chuckled, "Oh, it's of interest, Annie. Don't worry on that count, I'll be following the career of this Black Scorpion with great interest."

To Be Continued...


	10. The Bat, The Bird and The Scorpion

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 10: The Bat, The Bird and The Scorpion

Author's Notes: 44 reviews, thanks so much :)

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

The night was cold, even for early spring but Batman didn't feel it except for the biting air that he breathed in. The high-tech suit he wore kept him comfortable in all but the most extreme conditions. The streets were nearly empty at this time of night. Even for Gotham, there were times when the city slept. He checked his chronometer and muttered under his breath about criminals and punctuality. He had been on the stakeout for nearly four hours. Time he could have been using for sleep, something that had been lacking in his life lately. He wondered idly if the cape on the original suit had kept Bruce warm those first lonely years as the Dark Knight, because the original costume didn't seem to have much in the way of insulation.

Terry was tired mentally as well, if he wasn't off fighting bad guys, he was studying until his brain felt full to bursting. He had been attempting to cram for his finals in History, Physics, Calculous, and English Literature. Thankfully he had gotten through that with above average scores. Which made his teachers happy, although his mother wasn't very pleased that his grade point average was only a 3.5, he normally did much better. Personally, he felt that he was lucky he could manage to stay awake in class much less remember what was being taught.

Terry decided it was time to pack it in. He flew the Batmobile back to the cave expecting to see Bruce waiting for him.

When they had first met, they had saved each other's lives. Bruce had helped him fight off a gang of Jokerz and Terry had quickly aided Bruce when the stress of the fight proved too much for his slowly ailing heart. Had he known before hand that those simple acts of kindness would result in this strange partnership, he still wouldn't have done anything different.

He looked at the aged features of the man he had come to respect above all others, the stress lines that normally disappeared in sleep were still there tonight and seemed to have gotten deeper over the past few weeks. It wasn't very long ago that Ra's al Ghul had attempted to steal Bruce's body and use it as his own. Silently Terry had hoped for some lingering benefits from Bruce's one time use of the Lazarus Pit, but there hadn't been any. Bruce was, if anything, more prone to fatigue than he had been before.

Terry had seen pictures of Bruce when he was younger. He had been a very good looking man, the definition of tall, dark and handsome. He could understand why the Gotham jet-setters had been upset about Wayne never marrying. When he had come out of the Lazarus Pit and had been restored to sanity, it was all Terry could do not to stare in appreciation. Of course fighting for their lives had put a dampener on his libido.

Later though, he had carefully broached the subject. "Can I ask you something?"

The old man turned from his computer, "What is it, Terry?"

"What was more freaky for you, that it was Ra's that kissed you in Talia's body or that it was really a guy?" Terry asked the former Dark Knight.

Bruce glanced at him then turned to look at the computer again. "It wasn't that it was a man. Ra's had used the intimate relationship that his daughter and I once had against me. That is what was disgusting."

"Yeah well, let's hope we don't face that she-male again." Terry said jokingly but was cut off with a cold glare from Bruce.

"I recall from you that you didn't want to be a Robin if I were to don the mantle of Batman once more." Bruce stated to his pupil.

"Yeah and I ment every word of it." Terry stated in total conviction.

"You would have been the fourth Robin if you had." Bruce confirmed while typing away on the keyboard of his Bat-Computer.

Terry was confused when Bruce presented the new info, "Fourth Robin? So let me get this straight, if Drake was the third and Grayson was second, who was the first?"

The old man stopped working and bowed his head in shame as Terry got the idea, "Whoa, if you were Robin, who was Batman?"

Bruce reverted to his usual angered look, "The Batman was a second persona I made afterwards."

"So how did you become that boy wonder?" Terry asked his mentor as Bruce began to explain his past. "I never told anyone except for my butler Alfred and my former ward Richard about how I became Robin but you have the right to know so it all started when..."

Flashback...

Location: Gotham Opera House - Night

A gilded house packed to the rafters for Boito's Mefistofle as young Bruce Wayne was seated between his parents. On stage, several actors dressed as witch like creatures cavort and dark birds on wires descend, flapping.

Bruce stares, uneasy, at their violent motions, starts breathing faster as he stares fixedly. Bruce, gulping and panicing breaths, looks around for an exit - they're in the middle of a row. He grabs his Dad's arm with a desperate whisper, "Can we go?"

Thomas stares at his son, confused as Martha looks over. Bruce looks at his father, pleading as Thomas nods. They make their way along the row, Thomas nodding apologies to the crowd.

Location: Side Alley, Gotham Opera House - Night

The Waynes emerge from a side exit. Martha crouches before Bruce, tries to meet his eyes. He stares down, ashamed.

"Bruce, what's wrong?" Martha asked her son.

"He's fine." Her husband confirmed.

Martha looks up as Thomas gives her a conspiratorial look. "I just needed a bit of air. Bit of opera goes a long way, right, Bruce?"

Bruce looks up at his Dad, who winks as Bruce smiles gratefully.

"Come on Waynes... The Ice Cream's on me." Thomas, coat over his arm, ushers his family down the dark alley, heading for the welcoming glow of the main boulevard.

Thomas looks at his wife, "Enjoy the show, Martha?"

Martha shrugs, "I suppose so. That Rudolph Valentino isn't really my type, though."

A figure emerges from the shadows in front of them. It was a man with a Smith & Wesson Model 10 HB (Heavy barrel) Revolver and he's shifting uneasily. The mugger's name is Joseph Chill, "He aint, huh? Well, maybe I am."

Thomas looks up in shock, "Huh? Hey - What is this?"

"A stick-up, buddy. I'll take that necklace, you're wearing, lady." Joe sneered

Bruce looks up, "Father...?"

"Stay back, you. Don't try playin' hero on me." Joe warns his Dad as he took a step foward.

"Leave my wife alone, you filthy -" Thomas lunges at the mugger, intent on protecting his family.

"You asked for it." As he let of 2 rounds from his handgun and shoots Thomas Wayne. Bruce and his mother watch as Thomas falls dead.

Martha watched in horror, "No! Y-You've killed him!"

"Shuddup - And gimme that sparkler!" Joe grabs the necklace around Martha's neck as she screamed, "Help, police - HELP!"

"I said shuddup - If you know what's good for you!" Joe tears the necklace from Martha's neck, shoving her head against a corner on a lamp post. Beneath the street light, Bruce's mother crumples to the pavement. Bruce Wayne kneels before the fallen bodies of his mother and father. Tears drop from Bruce's eyes. "Father. . . M-Mother. . ."

He turns to face Joe, "Th-they're DEAD! You KILLED them! You killed my MOTHER AND FATHER! YOU! YOU!"

"Stop lookin' at me like that, kid. STOP LOOKIN' AT ME!" An instant later, Joe runs off into the darkness when he heard the police sirens in the distant leaving Bruce behind with his grief as he knelt beside the bodies. Joe's face would haunt Bruce for the rest of his life. Fortunately, medical doctor and social worker Leslie Thompkins was there to give loving comfort to the traumatized Bruce as the paramedics wheeled away the bodies of his parents. Bruce Wayne is left a wealthy boy by the unsolved murder of his socialite parents. But all the money in the world can't buy back his parents' lives. . . or still the turmoil in his young heart.

Location: Bruce Wayne's bedroom - Night

Shortly after the funeral, Social Services handed Bruce over to the care of his uncle – Philip Wayne. He's an older man in a perseus ash suit with a white silk shirt, blue tie and brown loafers who'd been appointed Bruce's guardian after his parent's death. He had silver hair, was about his late brother's age but his face had on a beard and a kinder expression. He peaks through the door as Bruce is already kneeling beside his bed, folding his hands together and bowing his head in prayer.

"Don't forget to say your prayers, Bruce." He reminded his nephew.

Bruce looks up, "I never forget them, Uncle Philip."

Philip smiles at his nephew, "There's a good lad. Good night."

Location: Wayne Manor outside of Gotham city - Day

Bruce's uncle was just heading out the door when Bruce and Alfred came to see him off. He turns around to face them, "I have to travel quite a bit, Bruce - so I'm putting you in the care of Alfred." He turns towards the family butler, "I trust that you will look after him while I'm gone."

"Most certinly sir, I will do my best to take care of the lad." He said in his calm British accent.

"I hope so, Uncle." Burce stated looking sad cause he only had a few friends during his childhood.

In the days that followed, Alfred saved Bruce's sanity, he cared for him - comforted him - taught him honesty and integrity... in many ways, he was like a second father to him. Bruce tried to feel at home in his own house but his spirit knew no peace until at last, driven by emotions he could no longer control, he went to the cemetary where his folks were buried and knelt by his parent's graveside and the angry sky bore silent witness as he made that solemn vow. "I swear I'll dedicate my life and my inheritance to bringing your killer to justice - And to making war on all criminals. Please, dear God - Help me keep my promise! I'll do anything-! I SWEAR IT!" As he raised his fist into the air.

Young Bruce Wayne was a pre-adolescent boy impatient to be a man, and the work was hard but he welcomed it cause he needed it and nothing would keep him from it. He dedicated his life to bringing his parents' killer to justice and waging war against all criminals who prey on the innocents.

Bruce was studing in the kitchen when the family butler brought him chocolate chip cookies and his famous hot chocolate for his master. "Thanks for the hot coco and cookies, Alfred."

"You're welcome Master Bruce - but shouldn't you be out playing with the other boys? So much study isn't good for you." he said as he set the tray down beside the boy.

Bruce turned back to his books, "I can play later. Right now, I have more important things to do."

"As you wish sir," He said to him just as he was about to leave the kitchen, he turned to the boy with a sad expression on his face, "That poor boy..." he sighed, "Seems that when his folks died, a part of him died with them."

It was almost a year to the day after the murders when he saw the headline in the newspaper about a police detective named Harvey Harris who caught a skyway robber. The Gotham Globe papers say it was brilliant sleuthing.

"This Harvey Harris is one of the greatest detectives of them all. If I could only be like him when I grow up. Maybe if I convinced him that I have some detective ability, he'd be willing to teach me but I can't let him know who I am. He'd do his best to discourage me. I'll have to find some way to keep my idenity a secret." Bruce said to himself.

That night, in the privacy of his room, he took a fateful step by creating a costume (that of the original Robin) to hide his identity and set out to meet Detective Harris.

It included an armored tunic, a cape that is black on the outside and yellow on the inside, and green leggings. Other details include an armored gorget, jika-tabi style boots, an emergency 'R' shuriken on his chest in addition to the traditional Bird-A-Rangs, and a collapsible bo staff as primary weapon (later outfitted to produce an electromagnetic pulse to shock enemies). He looks in a mirror admiring his new outfit, "This costume is a little bit fanciful but it ought to do the job. The next step is to catch Mr. Harris alone after he leaves headquarters."

Location: Gotham City Downtown - Night

It was the first time he ever went out in a costume and he stepped into something he hadn't bargined for. That's when he spotted someone in the ally. "That must be the man, Harris is trailing but he knows he's being followed and he's waiting in ambush. I've got to do something - fast." He learned then to use whatever he could in emergencies like this one. "That big tin bell advertising sign is light and won't hurt him, but it'll stop him." as he push the giant bell of the roof.

Down below the thug comes out of his hiding place, "You thought you could trap me, Harris, but..." Without warning the bell landed on top of the thug and knocks him out.

Harris was surprised, "Eh? Stanton was waiting for me but somebody pushed that big tin advertising display off the roof and nailed him."

Bruce waited until the police had come and taken the detective's would-be assailant away before he spoke to his hero. The dedicated sleuth sports a classic button-down cotton shirt and printed striped tie paired with a finely tailored black twill suit and black wingtip shoes. His legendary outfit wouldn't be complete without his signature yellow trenchcoat with detachable belt and tiny button details, and matching yellow fedora.

"Well young fellow, it seems I owe you a lot so who are you?" he asked the masked savior.

"I can't tell you that Mr. Harris but I can tell you this. You're the greatest living detective and I want to be your pupil." He said with honesty.

Harris thought real hard when looking at this boy in the halloween costume. 'Just an eager youngster, who thinks he'd like to be a detective. But if I turn him down, he'll maybe go off on his own and run risks - I'll string him along till I find out who he is and warn his parents.'

Bruce looks at him with concern, "Well, Mr. Harris?"

"Well, I do owe you a debt - so I'll teach you something about my profession." He looks at the costume, "And since you're as brillaint as a Robin redbreast in that outfit, I think I'll call you - Robin."

Robin smiled at his new name the detective gave him. "Swell! What do I learn first?"

"First you'll learn that detective work is no light hearted game, but a life of hard work, of loneliness, and danger. And since I'm to be your teacher, you will learn to obey."

Robin was nervous at the last statment, "I..." He gulped, "I'll do my best."

And no student ever had a better teacher then Harvey Harris. At his side, Robin was taught the finer points of boxing, the subtleties of fingerprint identification and the dangers that were all too common place in what was to be his chosen career but he studied and more importantly he learned.

"You're good son, but you still need years of practice. But one day, when you're fully trained and grown up. You may well become the greatest detective of us all." Harris stated with a smile to his student.

Robin smiled back, "I'll do my best to make you proud of me sir."

End of flashback...

The old man turned to Terry, "Although I didn't know it then, Harvey Harris was the first person to solve the secret of my double idenity. But Harris is long dead now, rest his soul."

Terry was amazed at the new info his mentor told him, "Whoa, that was a great story Bruce. So how did your mentor find out who you were behind the mask?"

Bruce folded his hands together and rested them on his cane, "Harris and I were investigating a string of grisly murders in a town called Huntsville outside of Gotham. It was there that we discovered that the murders were related to a group of white supremacists called The Ku Klux Klan, that terrorized a nearby shantytown over forty years ago."

Terry's eyes widen, he had heard of this group in his history class as Bruce continued, "The mastermind behind these deaths was a crippled physician named Dr. Malcolm Falk who was the son of the supremacist movement's founder and town elder Richard Hunt. His mother was a black servant named Maybelle. Richard Hunt murdered his mistress to cover up his infidelity and also crippled his own son. To get revenge upon the surviving members of the supremacist group, Dr. Falk hired a maniac named Ben Carr to systematically slaughter them one by one. Harris and I cracked the case and Carr was exposed. In an ensuing firefight with the police, a bullet struck my mentor and he died soon after but not before he told me with his dying words that he knew who I was behind the Robin persona and said that I shouldn't let my anger get the best of me but rather control it." Bruce lowered his head with sadness.

Terry felt sorry for him, that he lost his idol, "So what happened next?" He asked.

"At some time later, I made the connection between Ben Carr and Dr. Falk. I confronted Dr. Falk and told him that I had learned the truth however, there was no evidence to implicate him in the murder conspiracy. Now, many years later, as The Batman, I confronted the aging Dr. Falk who was at my mentor's tombstone. I visited him once every year to torment his conscious and remind him of the pain and death that his actions had caused."

Terry was impressed with the story, "I'll say, and here I thought The Joker was bad enough after what he did to Tim Drake but you fighting againest a racist group, that's... wow." He was lost for words.

Just then the Batcomputer started to make noises as Bruce turns around and continued to trace the source, "It looks like someone has activated the Batsignal at Gotham Police Headquarters."

"Great, just when I was gonna call it a night." Terry grumbles.

Location: Gotham City Police Headquarters - Night

Batman speeds along in the Batmobile. He hits top speed as the car's fusion drive glows red. He safely parked it in the shadowed alley. A giant projector, beaming the Batsignal on the fast night clouds stood on the flat roof of Police HQ. Batman leaps from a neighboring roof to find no one. Just the huge light and the city wind.

"Commissioner Gordon?"

A shadow appears from behind the searchlight. He was surprised to see a female figure standing there. The woman was dressed in a cleavage-revealing, leg-revealing, black bodysuit with aforementioned thigh-high black boots and long black gloves. Her silver and black scorpion emblem was underneath her sizable chest. Her dark shoulder length hair was in a braid that had a silver scorpion's stinger on the end as it came from the back of her head. Her lipstick was outrageous ruby and the ring she carried can emit a powerful, radiating light, powerful enough to knock super villains off their feet. The ring also acts as a shield as it ricochet enemy bullets.

"Gordon's home." She informed him. "I sent the signal."

"Why? What's wrong?"

She spoke quickly, "I know Two-Face is back in Gotham. But I also noticed something about him. It's his coin and he's obsessed with justice. It's his Achilles' heel, I think it can be exploited."

"You called me here for that? The Bat-Signal is not a beeper." Grim, Intimidating, he steps closer to her, looming over her like some night-beast. With a start, Batman realized that her costume exactly matched that of the ribbon that had bound The Golum gang a while back. "So," he said dryly, "you're the one who took out The Golums. I suppose I should thank you for saving me the trouble."

"You're welcome, though we haven't been properly introduced?" Black Scorpion said to the Tomorrow Knight.

"I'm Batman," he said impatiently. "And you are...?"

Instead of backing off, Black Scorpion moves towards him. "I'm called Black Scorpion," she said brightly. "I wish I could say my interest in you was purely professional."

He stood very still. "Are you trying to get under my cape?"

"A girl cannot work alone by fighting crime." she smiled

He smiled back, "It's the car, right? Chicks love the car."

"What is it about the wrong kind of man? In grade school, it was guys with earrings. In College, motorcycles and leather jackets." Black Scorpion is right up against him. She runs her gloved fingers along the outline of Batman's mask. "Now black rubber."

"Try a fireman. Less to take off."

"I don't mind the work. Pity I can't see the real you behind the mask."

He knew she was attracted to him as he was to her, but now was surley not the right time. Batman stills her hand. "We all wear masks, even you."

"My life's an open book. You read?"

"I'm not the kind of guy who blends in at a family picnic."

Black Scorpion smiled, "We could give it a try. I'll bring the wine, you bring the scarred psyche."

He couldn't help but admiring her. "You are direct, aren't you?"

She smiled again. "You like strong women. I've done my homework. Or do I need to dress like a cat with a whip?"

She was referring to Selina Kyle aka Catwoman, of course as their bodies are close.

"I haven't had much luck with women," he said, a little rueful.

"Maybe you just haven't met the right woman."

Their mouths are close as his eyes closed, she could have stretched up and kissed him without any trouble. Suddenly Commissioner Barbara Gordon, trench-coat over pajamas, rushes onto the roof.

"I saw the beacon." she gasped "What's going on?"

Batman opened his eyes only to find Black Scorpion gone from his sight, "Nothing. It was a false alarm." As he turned away, Barbara stood watching as Batman dives from the building and leaped into the Batmobile.

"Are you sure?" she said to herself.

Batman was unhappy as the Batmobile sped away from alley. Normally he didn't mix business and pleasure; the night was for fighting crime, not for playing lovey-dovey with some woman... no matter how beautiful she was. But he got to admit to himself: Black Scorpion had really gotten under his skin.

"Don't let her distract you from your mission Terry." Bruce radioed him.

"Gee, ya think?" Batman growled

The sleek machine raced up an on-ramp and joined Gotham's elevated roadway system, snaking between buldings, powering along adqueuct archways so large they might have been built for giants.

Behind one of the arches, an armored car lay in wait. At the control was the Duke of Duality, Two-Face. As the Batmobile sped by unheeding, the master criminal spoke into a microphone. "I knew if we kept an eye on the cop house. We'd spot him sooner or later. Gentlemen, start your engines."

Almost instantly, two red and black cars - bisecteddown the middle, just like Two-Face himself - came racing out of their hiding place, closing fast on the Batmobile.

"Terry, you got company." The elderly Bruce warned.

"I see them." Batman stated as he caught their lights behind him.

"Turn on your tactical map." Bruce suggested.

Batman then snapped: "Tactical!" The voice activated graphics leaped into life on the Batmobile's console screen, another two blinking dots, joining the first pair as more of Two-Face's pursuit cars raced across the elevated roadway to join the chase. A fifth - Two-Face's personal own car too - took up the rear.

Never one to merely react if it was at all possible to change the odds againest him, Batman sent the 'moble barrling off the aqueducts and onto the actual rooftops, searing away from the pursuit cars across the tarpaper flats.

The lead pursuit car fell into line behind him, machine guns set into the two-tone hood splitting bullets that richo-cheted of the Batmobile's armored side.

Dead ahead, an abyss between two roofs yawned. Batman's foot stabbed the accelerator. and the car's twin turbos roared into life, carrying it over the chasm below. Front wheels grabed the opposite roof, spinning and and screaming for purchase. Then he was over, and aware that the first of Two-Face's men was also trying to jump.

The red and black soared - but not high enough. It fell short, its trajectory carrying it into the wall of the oppostie building, where it exploded in a fiery violence.

The second pursuit vehicle banked off the side of an mapartment complex, bounced it's way down several ajacent roofs, screeched into line screeched into line mere feet behind the Batmoble. Batman swtiched direction abrupty, steering toward a narrow drop. On the other side was the sloping roof of the Gotham Insurance Company, rising like a steep hill.

Again the Batmobile took off, leaped through space, and hit the roof. Immeditaly, tiny suction cups protuded from the tires, adhearing to the steep surface.

Seeing the Batmobile roar off up the manmade hill, the thug behind thought he could do it, too. He made the jump all right - but unfortunately, there were no suction cups on his tires. his wheels spun in vain for grip, screeching and smoking. Then the car slid slowly backward off the building, tumbling down to crash in vacant lot below. On Batman's screen, a second light winked out. Batman smiled at his own work just as the others gunned their cars to close in on him, Two-Face still bringing up the rear.

The Batmobile shot down a narrow alley of a rooftops, sheer skyscraper walls rising on both sides. Dead ahead - a giant building, a massive mural painted on its side.

"Get rid of him." Two-Face rasped into his mike.

"You got it Boss." One of his thugs responded.

On his gunsels' cars, cannons unfolded from the hoods. One fired, and a tremendous fireball exploded close behind the Batmobile. A second shot exploded overhead.

"It's gonna be a hot time in the cold town TWO-NITE!" Two-Face cackled with glee as he watched the fireworks in his car.

Strapped into his seat, Batman saw the nural racing toward him through the windshield. He hit a button on the dashboard, and a sophisticated circuity spang to into action. The Batmobile converted into a Batplane and the mighty machine was yanked verticaly, and Batman rode straight up up the side building, the painted murals flashing beneath the Batplane.

Neither of the pursuit cars could stop in time, twin explosions marking their destruction as they slammed at high spped into the mural wall. Above, the Batplane braked to a halt on the roof, turned and converted back into the Batmobile, and took off again across the elevated cityscape.

Two-Face cursed as his own car came to a skidding halt barely inches away from the mural. He stepped out, lit by the flickering flames of two wrecks, and screamed his rage into the night. "I'll get you next time, Batman! Next time!"

To be continued...


	11. The Brave and The Bold

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 11: The Brave and The Bold

Author's Notes: We write the most Kick-Ass Two-Face story for Batman Beyond and nobody seems to bother to review the story (save the authors that I'm friends with that we know off) that we work so hard putting together. All other people do is write other Batman Beyond FanFics while getting over 100 reviews including characters like Harley Quinn, Mr. Freeze, Scarecrow and so on which really grinds our gears. FYI people, we're like a car that needs gas to operate in order to travel, and that gas is reviews which we need from you people telling us what you want to see in the next chapter of our story. No reviews = No continuation of the story.

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Melanie Dent's Apartment - Night

Melanie stood on the small porch of her one-room apartment to take in some air after a long shift. After all that happened over the past few months, the knowledge that she still had helped, was what kept her going. She closed her eyes as she breathed in the somewhat noxious air of the alley and the smell of the cup of well-made, but cheap coffee she held in her hand.

Her current status in life was a far cry from the five-star hotels and gourmet meals to which she'd grown accustomed as a member of the notorious Royal Flush Gang.

For a long time, the dazzle and thrill of the crimes she and her family committed had helped blind her to the ugly reality – that she was not a member of a real family, but rather her family saw her as just another member of a gang of common thieves, who masquraded as a high class criminal organization. At times she felt that hell itself was preferable to her family, ther was never any real intimacy or love there, they were just empty shells who had given birth to her, but were never her mother and father. Terry had helped her see that.

"God Terry..." she thought out loud as she closed her eyes again. Melanie tried unsuccessfully to hold back the tears as she thought of the first boy she'd truly loved. Sure, there had been others before – her looks and sense of adventure was enough to turn any guy's head. But Terry was different. Melanie couldn't explain it, but there was something about him that set him apart from all the others. It was a kind of seriousness and depth, or his code of honor, that allowed her to really open up to him.

He seemed to love her for who she was – both inside and out. The fact that he rejected her way of life, because it brought back the memories of the shame and humilation he'd brought on his own family, and only steeled his determination to make amends for what he had done. Somehow that desire for redemption and the loyalty he showed to his boss, family and friends, made him even more attractive. It convinced her to make real efforts and sacrifices, in an effort to overcome her past, and to try and redeem her family name, something foreign to her until now.

Before she could get by and ignore her struggles, her sense of loss and emptiness with equally empty flings. Terry forced her to face them head-on, to choose between a real relationship with him and a continuance of the illusion. Before she could bear the pain and continue, but after Terry the illusion shattered completely. So she left her so-called family and never looked back.

When Melanie gave that note to Batman, she hoped Terry would see how she'd finally made the decision in favor of him. For months, she wondered whether Batman kept his promise to give Terry the note articulating her feelings for him. Until Batman returned, she told herself that maybe it was his fault Terry didn't get the note, either because he was too busy or just didn't care.

In the end, the truth was worse than both options. Terry got the note, and had clearly decided to cut her loose. It was a devastating revelation. Before, she was forced to choose between family and love. Now, she was left with nothing. With what strength she had left, she took up her savings and bailed out Jack, her last remaining link to sanity until he decided to betray her and go back to living a life of crime. Now, she was a different person, shorn of all illusions. All she could do was rebuild what was left of her life and hope for the best, for what it was worth.

In spite of all her anger and disappointment, some part of her still loved Terry. He had broken her heart, yes. Yet, in his own way, he saved her from being trapped inside the illusion. Whatever happened now, it would be real, thanks to Terry. Small comfort, but it was all she had left.

"You ok Melanie?" a voice called out from behind her as she turned to see Two-Face's loyal henchman Buttons McBoomBoom.

"Buttons? What are you doing here?" she asks

"The Boss told me to check up on you, is something wrong?" He stated with a concern look on his face.

"No, I'm okay, thanks for asking." she smiled, "Tell me something, how did my husband get a hold of your services?"

Buttons thought real hard, "Well I'm originally from Empire City where I used to work for a man named Brandon Babel aka Big Boss."

"What's he like?" she wondered

"An incredibly fat man, Big Boss is Empire City's worst nightmare. The mastermind behind the entire Crooks organization made up of only professional burglars, muggers, and thieves. A ruthless crime lord who rules the criminal world with an iron fist - literally." Buttons stated

Melanie rasied her eyebrow, "You mean...?"

Buttons nodded, "Yep, a freak accident caused him to lose his left hand. It was replaced with a cybernetic left hand which he uses to smash things when enraged. He talks like Edward G. Robinson, nearly always uttering a soft spoken 'mahh' as he speaks to himself, his thugs, foes, or anyone else. Surprisingly fast and agile despite being a grossly obese 350 pound man, Big Boss makes sure that no criminal caper goes on without him knowing about it and giving his approval."

Melanie's eyes widen when she tried to picture his previous employer that sent shivers down her spine.

"There's more, Big Boss is never without Scratch, his pet weasel with large eyes and a cat-like look. He keeps him company everywhere he goes at all time. Like Big Boss, a freak accident caused him to be severely injured, leading him to have a cybernetic body and metal paws to help save his life. He's easily startled and jumps when the Big Boss' iron fist pounds on the desk right next to him to make his point across." Buttons explained as he remembered that day.

Flashback...

Location: Empire City - Day

At a penthouse, an unhappy crime lord loudly rants just after Percival "Percy" Cranial aka Dr. BadVibes appears through his teleportation device to tell him about Berserko's latest blunder and how he destroyed the Stradivarius violin. He's a mad scientist who once worked at Comtrex before he was fired from his job for stealing components and using them for his own experiments.

This is the reason why he became what he is today. Dr. BadVibes is seen wearing a lab coat that's colored tan. He is easily identified with an abnormally enlarged brain encased in a clear acrylic glass dome and is known to create literal brainstorms by charging electricity through his brainwaves. He has weird hair, one earring on his left ear and strange lenses that he has to wear due to his suffering from myopia. He has a crazy laugh and is never without his robot companion named Buzzbomb.

"FOOLS! BUNGLERS! IMBECILES! IDIOTS! I'M SURROUNDED BY THEM! HERE I AM RUNNING AN ORGANIZATION FILLED WITH NOTHING BUT INCOMPETENT DOLTS!" Big Boss slams his iron fist on the desk. He also has police badges on his white suit with a pink shirt and a black tie of police officers that were foolish enough to try and arrest him.

Scratch jumps and lands on his yes-man Dirk McHugh aka Squeaky Clean's bald head, "REOOWWWW!" The scared weasel lets out.

"P-P-Please Big Boss. D-D-Don't take it out on me! I-I-I'm sure there's another violin out there for you to play on like what Berserko has wrecked." Dr. Badvibes pleaded.

"'Mahhh' That fiddle was worth more than all the wealth I have stashed away in my personal vault! 'Mahhhh' And Berserko, that butter brain so-'n-so, had to ruin it all — FOR ME!" Big Boss covers his face with his hands. "'Mmaaaaaahhhhhh' What else can go wrong today!"

Buttons McBoomBoom entered the room to see his employer, the Mad Doctor and his robot.

"You've just had to ask that, didn't you Big Boss?" Gulped Dr. Badvibes.

Big Boss turned to Buttons, "'Maahh' WHATD'YA WANT, YA OL' SORRY SAPHEADED DUNDERHEADED DORK!"

"What I want Big Boss? I have come to tell you that I quit." Buttons stated to the fat man.

"WHAT? You can't quit, you're one of my best soldiers, see." Big Boss didn't want to lose a member of his gang.

"Well too bad, find someone else to do your dirty work." Buttons replied as he walked out of the door.

End of Flashback...

Location: Melanie Dent's Apartment - Night

"Is that why you left him?" she asked

"Yep, Got tired of of him and the pay was crap compared to what your husband is paying. Not only that I never liked his nephew." He stated

"His nephew?" she asked

"Barney L. Fatheringhouse is his real name though he goes by the name Berserko. He is noted for his gross incompetence and overall stupidity, which leads to repeated arrests by the police. Berserko is a very dangerous crook who talks in a high, squeaky voice, laughs at his own jokes even if they are not funny and causes trouble just for fun. He would certainly qualify for that Jokerz Gang." Buttons joked as Melanie chuckled a bit and said, "So what happened after you left your former Boss?"

"I flew to Gotham City and tried to find myself some work so I went to the Stacked Deck to get myself a drink."

Flashback...

Location: Stacked Deck - Day

Buttons McBoomBoom headed for the Stacked Deck after his plane entered the city. In cities like this most of the main business is on the main street that runs trough it. The Stacked Deck was clearly marked with the painted letters in its windows and the swinging board that hung outside with the same word written upon it. The Stacked Deck was a hotspot for all kinds of criminals in the Docks of Gotham.

From the streets Buttons heard the music being played inside the Stacked Deck. It was an old fashioned tune that the people knew how it went but no one knew its name. The sounds that emanated from behind the doors was uproarious and happy with the people inside dancing, drinking and possibly playing poker.

Buttons stopped in the middle of the street with the brief gust of wind blowing by the sand at his feet. His eyes fixed on the Stacked Deck's doors. He turned and walked up to them. Both his hands reached up to part the doors like the Red Sea as he crossed the threshold into the Stacked Deck. He set his feet inside the Stacked Deck, the doors closed behind him and all sound stopped. The deafening silence that came over the room was absolutely chilling.

No one was dancing, talking, laughing or playing poker. Even the old fashioned tune that was played at the piano had stopped. All eyes in the room were on Buttons who came in. He looked like a swinger from the 1930's era. He stunk of dirt, sand and even the faint coppery smell that only belonged to blood.

Buttons took a few steps to the bar at this left while the music, dancing, laughing and poker playing continued. Buttons set the guitar case upon the barstools next to him like it was his beloved.

The only person who was calm the moment Buttons walked in was the bartender. He was as cool as a cucumber as was cleaning the glasses. He cleaned the glasses by the conditioning that he had from being in this job for so long. That much was obvious by the gray hairs around his ears and by the first question he asked Buttons.

"What'll it be?" He asked putting away his newly cleaned glass.

From under the folded brimmed hat Buttons spoke. "A glass of whiskey." Buttons said

The bartender poured the drink, while Buttons took the glass, brought it to his lips and gulped all of it as if it was water. Buttons brought back down his glass from his lips and the bartender refilled his drink. Except this time Buttons drunk more slowly and the bartender wanted to make small talk with him.

"Are you a guitar player?" He asked from the case that was laid upon the barstools.

"No, I'm just a guy looking for work." Buttons replied.

"What's your name stranger?" The bartander asked

Buttons looked up to the bartander, "Buttons McBoomBoom from Empire City, why do you ask?" Then the bartander looks to see a member of Two-Face's gang enter the bar. "Say George, I want you to meet Buttons McBoomBoom. He just blew in from Empire City."

The thug named George walks up and looks at Buttons, "Buttons McBoomBoom? Say... you're the guy who made a rep by taking down 22 cops in that city. Glad to meetcha." As he shook the fellow criminal's hand.

Later on the two become good friends. "So you work for Two-Face eh? I heard he's big time. I'd like to work for a big shot like him." Buttons replied as he took another swing of his beverage.

George smiled, "Well, maybe I can fix it. We could use a good driver."

Location: Two-Face's Hideout - Day

The criminal mastermind looks at Buttons with concern when one of his goons brought him to his headquarters. "Buttons McBoomBoom... I could use you but I'm cautious about new men. Who knows? You might be Batman using that holographic disguise."

George puts his hand on his Boss' back to assure him that Buttons is the real deal. "Boss... I know you're leery cause The Batman fooled us with holographic disguises before... but this guy is okay."

Buttons then felt uneasy with the situation, "Listen Two-Face, I don't wanta work for you if you feel that way about me."

Two-Face thought for a moment as he took out his coin, flips it into the air and lets it land on his desk with the good side up, "Hmm, You have a well known rep... And I need a a good driver so you're hired."

End of Flashback...

Location: Melanie Dent's Apartment - Night

"And that's how I worked for your husband. You sure you will be ok Melanie?" Buttons asked

"Yes, I'm fine thank you." She replied

Location: Wild Deuce 2 Club - Night

Two-Face returned to his father's old hideout in a place few people knew and fewer had still had seen. He was disappointed by tonight's event that his nemesis had escaped his trap set up by him.

The whole Dr. Jeffery Dent aka Two-Face II's life had been taken over by his obsession with duality, a tragic manifestation of pain and trauma he suffered when his face and brain were irrevocably burned just like his father before him. Even his hideout fitted the theme. The long, low room was divided neatly down the center.

On one side - his normal, 'good' side - stood the contents of an ordinary apartment: couch, table, chairs, everything neat and orderly. But the other side...! Imagine Frakenstien's monster having a nightmare, and that only partly summed it up. Evil, dark furnishings and sharp metal linded the side paralleling the dark side of Jeffery's persona.

Two-Face is now wearing a double breasted pinstriped suit with the right side blue and the left side black. The shirt and tie underneath continue the split theme, with the right shirt white, the left light blue, and the tie on the right is striped black and the left is grey. "The Bat's stubborn refusal to expire... IS DRIVING ME INSANE!" wailed Two-Face as he slammed his fist on his arm chair. Twin sisters Delia and Deidre Dennis aka Dee-Dee, went up to the dual mastermind as he sat on his split style throne.

Delia looking dazzling and innocent in pristine white. She wears ribbons on gold rings in her hair, which was styled into ringlets. Her top was soft lace and off the shoulder, her skirt was pearl studded silk embroidered with white roses and hemmed with silver. A lace wrap around her waist shimmered with a dousing of sequins and she wore a pair of frilly white sandal high heels.

Her bands of pearls around her neck and diamond bracelets and rings were all for her expensive taste as she nuzzed up to Two-Face's handsome side. Delia comes straight from castle fairy tales with her proper dress and etiquette, politeness, and comfort. "Don't worry baby."

Deidre sat on Two-Face's scarred side and is dressed in a black corset and leather skirt with garters attached to her eight inch heeled boots that were slit down the back to reveal dark tights. Her lipstick is outrageous ruby, as she smiled at her boss. She also wore a dog collar and was decked out in gold and rubies. Unlike her sister, Deidre has a more abrasive, selfish, vindictive personality. "You'll kill him soon enough."

Delia sauntered ahead to a lace-trimmed table on her side of the club. There was a vase of white roses and blossoms in a pristine vase with a smile she gripped the silver dome covering the food. "Besides Mon Cher, I made your favorite tonight, sparkling champagne, yummy poached salmon with little itty bitty quail eggs, and a creamy, deamy lemon souffle."

Deidre scoffed at her sister's so called meal and made her way to the sharp angled black covered table with the thorny briars in a blackened pot set on it. She picked the handle of the service up and the pair pulled them away. "Fish? Don't make me puke Dee-Dee. I made his favorite, a charred heart of black boar, a side of raw donkey meat, and a sterno and grain alcohol straight up baby, HA HA HA HA!"

Two-Face grinned both happily and ravenously at the two tables and then frowned. "I can't eat with The Bat on my mind. I need to feel his blood pouring out of an open wound on his throat." he snarled, "Yes I need it to be in a nice and witty manner." He looked at his henchwomen and sighed, "Alright, ladies you spoil me, I have two options now, what to eat first?" As he sat down to eat his meals, Two-Face remembered his original plan was to kidnap Terry McGinnis from before, he remembered that he wanted to make the errand boy a criminal like him. He looked through the newspaper to see if any event his Godfather was holding and sure enough he found what he was looking for.

Location: Gotham Charity Ball - Night

Terry hated ties. He really, really hated them. Why? Because for one, they were tacky and out of style. And two, they made him feel like he was being strangled, like death's cold fingers were wrapped around his throat... But alas, he said nothing. Escorting Mr. Wayne to these black tie events weren't really his style then again he was getting paid double for this, and with the exciting life Bruce lets him lead as Batman, Terry wasn't about to start complaining. Besides, he could tell that the old man was bored as well.

"Brucie! It's so good to see of you after all these years." Said a wealthy socialite, and a charming woman named Linda Page. Linda's a very fair-skinned, with long, straight, dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. Her face is heart-shaped—a wide forehead with a widow's peak, large, wide-spaced eyes, prominent cheekbones, and then a thin nose and a narrow jaw with a pointed chin.

Her lips are a little out of proportion, a bit too full for her jaw line. Her eyebrows are darker than her hair and more straight than they are arched. She's five foot four inches tall, slender but not at all muscular, and weighs about 115 pounds. She has stubby fingernails because she has a nervous habit of biting them. She dedicated her time as a nurse for the elderly, instead of falling into the stereotype that rich women were spoiled and lazy.

Bruce smiled at the woman before him, "You know me, Linda," Bruce said with a sly smile. "Always making a dramatic entrance."

Linda produced a rather fake laugh. She patted Bruce's lapel. "Of course," she said. "I should have known." She turned her head to face the young man beside him.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend Bruce?"

"Oh... I'm Terry McGinnis, his part time assistant." The boy spoke up and shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you Terry." She said with a smile.

"Can I get you something to drink, sir?" asked a voice from behind Bruce and Terry. They both turned to see a skinny young man with light hair and a nervous smile.

"Just a water for now, thanks." Bruce answered, smiling at the young waiter. He nodded and turned to face Terry, "And you sir?"

"I would like a medium dry martini," he said, "in a deep champagne goblet, three measures of Gordon's Gin, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?" Terry answered him as the young man nodded in return who was pleased with the idea.

When the waiter departed from the group, Bruce glanced at his student and rasied his eyebrow. "What?" Terry shrugged his shoulders, "I always wanted to try that drink besides I'm old enough to drink the good stuff."

"You need to stop watching those James Bond vids." His mentor stated to him.

Linda took Bruce's arm and walked him into the hospital. The normally bare hospital walls had been decorated for the eveing with large, dramatic curtains. They gave the event a feeling of glitz and glamour. It was exactly the type of party Gotham's rich and famous were used to attending. Bruce glanced at Linda as they walked. He had known her for years. They both came from wealthy families.

"It was so good of you to organize this event." Linda said, smiling up to her handsome date dispite his old age.

"It was nothing, really," Bruce said, "My assistant did most of the work." He indicated to Terry.

"Oh yeah, it was really nothing." Terry muttered under his breath.

Linda laughed her fake laugh once again. Bruce smiled at her, but his thoughts were straying. His mind felt divided between where he was, and where he should be. "Are you okay?" Linda asked, "You seem to be a million miles away."

"No, I'm fine," Bruce said, clearing his throat. "Just thristy." Bruce raised a finger in the air as the waiter walked by him. "How's that water and martini coming along?" he asked the awkward waiter.

"Sir?" the waiter asked, confused.

"My assistant and I ordered a water and a martini from you." Bruce said as Terry stood next to him, "He's right, we did order from you."

"No sir, you two didn't order anything from me." the waiter said.

Just then, Bruce noticed someone out of the cornor of his eye. It was a young man who looked exectly like the waiter he and Terry were talking to.

"Oh," Bruce said as the second man brought him his water and Terry's martini. "our mistake." Bruce turned back to Linda. For the first time that night, she was laughing a genuine laugh. Both mentor and student felt embarrassed for what just happened.

"Twins," she said, smiling widely. Bruce and Terry looked around the room. There were eight waiters total. All eight were dressed in vests and bowties and seemed a bit nervous. But the strangest thing was that each waiter had an identical twin working beside him.

"That's odd?" Bruce stated

"What is it Boss?" Terry asked, seeing the look in his mentor's eyes.

"Look around Terry, four sets of twins in the same place." He indicated the waiters around them. Suddenly, Terry realized what was going on. He knew what he had to do.

"Excuse me for a moment, will you?" Terry asked Bruce and Linda. "I need to get a little fresh air." Linda let out a fake laugh again as Terry hurried away. His walk turned into a jog as he neared a doorway to the stairs. The stairwell was empty and just shadowy enough to that he wouldn't be seen. Terry began to unbutton his shirt, revealing his Batman uniform underneath but it was too late. He could hear weapons firing inside the ballroom.

Peering through the small window on the door, Terry realized his mentor's suspicion had been correct. Waltzing into the room was none other than the Duke of Duality himself Two-Face. Dressed in a tuxedo with the right side orange, while the left side light blue with a black grid pattern. His shirt on the right is white and the left black, and his bowtie on the right is black and the left is orange with red polka dots. On his arms were the Dee-Dee Twins, granddaughters of the infamous Harley Quinn.

"Hands up!" Two-Face yelled. "Both of them!"

Terry watched as the rich men and women rasied their hands. Every single one of them looked terrified except for his employer who stood his grounds. The Dee-Dee Twins went up to him. "Well if it isn't old Mr. Wayne." Delia said to her twin, Deidre grabs hold of his arm, "So debonair." Delia also takes hold of his arm, "So dapper." Deidre smiles evily, "So decrepit."

Just as she was about to knee him in the chest again, a voice calls out, "Hold it girls! The coin says not to harm Bruce Wayne." Two-Face stated holding his trademark coin with the good side shown up.

Both Dee-Dee were disapointed with the outcome as they let go of the old man, "Consider yourself lucky, Gramps." Deidre stated with a hint of venom in her voice.

"What do you want Jeffery?" Bruce stated to his Godson turned criminal.

Two-Face smirked at his Godfather who used his real name instead of his criminal name, a bold move like that would get Bruce killed but the good side of Two-Face wouldn't allow him to take out a family member related to him. "Here's the deal," Two-Face said. "We don't want your cash, and we couldn't careless about your jewels. We came here for one reason."

Terry pressed his ear againest the door in order to hear better.

"If you're not here for the loot, then what are you after?" Bruce asked as the patrons around were confused with the demand.

"It's simple, we want Terrence McGinnis!" Two-Face screamed. "Give him to us, and we'll leave the rest of you alone. And if you don't, well let's just say you'll all go home in body bags."

Terry looked down at the bat-symbol on his chest. He could have rushed into the ballroom as Batman but that would put countless lives in danger. He really had no choice. He had to give himself up. Terry McGinnis buttoned up his shirt and pushed open the stairwell door. "I'm right here, Jeffery," he said raising his hands.

"Grab him." Two-Face grumbled

The four sets of twin waiters and the Dee-Dee twins surrounded Terry. "Hello big boy..." Delia stated to him, "...remember us?" Deidre finished her sister's sentence.

"How can I forget you two when you both were working for some clown who claimed to be The Joker?" Terry sarcastically answered. Two of Two-Face's twin thugs put a cloth bag over Terry's head as everything went black.

To Be Continued...


	12. Double the Villain, Double the Fun

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 12: Double the Villain, Double the Fun

Author's Notes: Sorry for the long wait folks. Had some computer problems and a major case of Writer's block.

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Janus theater, Gotham City - Night

The figure sat silhouetted in the darkness of the cramped room, waiting, as the white noise of the television set blared in the background.

Garbage littered the floor to the left of the armchair, while the right half of the room had been scrupulously cleaned. The small room had even been painted two different colors, the dirty side flat black, and the clean side satin white. Even the armchair the man sat in was an object d'art in duality. The right side was a pristine Chippendale, where the left cushions had been cut open, apparently by a large knife, and the stuffing torn out in patches and strewn about the left half of the room.

"You know what you need to do Jeff. You need to make the boy like us." A voice growled.

"No." The man whispered, his voice nearly a whimper. "You can't make me. You can't."

"Sure I can. You can't stop it, even if you wanted to."

Reluctantly, a smooth pale hand reached for an object on the table. "Not so fast!" A second hand, horribly scarred, grabbed the first. A plain gold band rested on the ring finger of the left hand that clutched the right in an iron grip.

"You can't throw it away, Jeff. It's not that simple."

Weeping, the man slowly nodded. The scarred hand gently picked up a silver dollar from the end table, caressed its edge, then flipped it into the air.

The soft light from the broken window glinted on its metallic surface, clearly showing a pristine face of John Fitzgerald Kennedy, and as the coin spun, a side scratched so as to make the handsome President's face unrecognizable.

Time seemed frozen. Then the coin landed, heads up, in an outstretched hand. Looking at the result, the man smiled in the dark. He looked at the photo of his family, his parents whom he loved as he recalled the night his Godfather made his last appearance before disappearing from the world.

Flashback...

Location: Ocelot Restaurant, Gotham City - Night

The Ocelot was Gotham's newest dining sensation. It was possible to spend a middle-class worker's monthly salary on a meal for six, if one went a little heavy on the wine. The food was spectacular: a fusion of French, Thai, and, incredibly, St. Louis barbecue.

It should have been ghastly: instead, it was delicious. But it wasn't the cuisine that drew most of it's clientele to the Ocelot: it was the chance to be seen, and to let the world know that money was no object.

Harvey Dent with his wife Grace along with their 10 year old son Jeffery allowed themselves to be seated at a table in the center of the cavernous room. As they waited for their menus, Jeffery was too busy reading his book on different countries around the world and its culture. Harvey looked around at his surroundings and frowned. "It took me 3 weeks to get a reservation and I had to tell them I worked for the government."

Grace raised her eyebrows, "Really?"

"Even when I reformed my criminal ways, this city health inspector's not afraid to pull strings." Harvey smirked

Grace smiled, and half stood to look over her husband's shoulder at Bruce Wayne, who was entering accompanied by a beautiful woman. Bruce shooed away the maîtred' and strode to his friend's table.

"Grace!" Bruce said, "Fancy that."

Grace smiled, "Yes, Bruce. Fancy that."

Jeffery looks up from his book that he was reading, "Godfather!"

Bruce nodded to the woman standing next to him. "Grace, Natascha. Natascha, Grace." He then turn his attention to the boy, "And this is my Godson, Jeffery."

In a pronouned Russian accent, Natasha said, "Hello."

"Пожалуйста встретить вас." (Translated: Please to meet you.) Jeffery stated to his Godfather's date.

"Oh you speak Russian?" she asked.

"I try my best to learn many languages as possible." He smiles at her.

"I bet you do, keep at it." She winked at him.

Harvey chuckled at his son's honesty and then looked up at his friend, "It seems age hasn't slowed you down Bruce. You still managed to get good looking women."

"I certainly hope not. Let's put a couple tables together." Bruce suggested.

"Will they let us do that?" Harvey asked.

"They should! I own the place." Bruce stated.

"For how long?" Grace asked, "Let me guess, about 3 weeks?"

Bruce stared at his shoes. "How'd you know?"

Grace turned her gaze to Natascha, "Aren't you..."

"Prima ballerina for the Moscow Ballet." Bruce proclaimed.

"Harvey's taking me next week." Grace said.

"You're into ballet, Harvey?" Bruce asked.

"No." Grace said, "He knows I am."

Bruce motioned to the maîtred' and whispered in his ear. A minute later, two busboys carried an extra table from the kitchen area and placed it next to Harvey's table. "Let me order for everyone." Bruce said.

It was almost 11 when the 5 of them at their last bite of dessert. The Ocelot was empty except for the wait staff and a handful of late diners. Natascha dabbed at her lips with a napkin and continued the conversation they'd been having. "No, No, come on. How could you want to raise children in a city like this?" She indicated to Jeffery.

"I was raised here." Bruce said in a mock outrage, "and I turned out ok."

"Is Wayne Manor in the city limits?" Harvey asked. Grace gives Harvey a withering look.

"The Palisades? Sure. You know, as a D.A. you might want to figure out where your jurisdiction ends." Bruce stated

"I'm talking about the kind of city that idolizes a masked vigilante," Natascha said, her voice rising.

"Gotham's proud of an ordinary man standing up for what's right." Harvey said.

Natascha shook her head, "No, Gotham needs heroes like you - elected officials, not a man who thinks he's above the law."

"Exactly," Bruce said, "Who appointed the Batman?"

"We did," Harvey said, "All of us who stood by and let scum take control of our city."

"But this is a democracy, Harvey." Natascha said.

Harvey leaned forward, his elbows and forarms on the table. "When their enemies were at the gate, the Romans would suspend democracy and appoint one man to protect the city. It wasn't considered an honor. It was considered public service."

Grace said, "And the last man they asked to protect the republic was named Caesar. He never gave up that power."

"Well, I guess you either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain. Look, whoever the Batman is, he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life doing this. How could he? Batman's looking for someone to take up his mantle." Harvey said.

Natascha looked directly into Harvey's eyes, smiled and purred, "Someone like you, Mr. Dent?"

"Maybe. If I'm up to it." he shrugged.

Natascha leaned over the table and covered the top half of Harvey's face with her flattened hands. "But what if Harvey Dent is the Caped Crusader?"

Harvey took Natascha's wrists and gently drew her arms away from his face. "If I were sneaking out every night someone would've noticed by now. Also there's one flaw to your logic, how could I been Batman if I was a criminal mastermind named Two-Face?" He growled and narrowed his eyes at her.

Natascha felt embarrassed by the news, "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Harvey calm down, it was an honest mistake." Bruce stated to his friend.

"Bruce, please. Look at her. You think a woman like that's sniffing around because she likes your personality?" Harvey pointed at her.

"What are you saying, Dad?" Jeffery asked seeing his father's anger.

Harvey turns to his son, "Your mother is beautiful, too. They're all beautiful, till they're snarling after your trust fund like ravening wolves."

Bruce was concerned with his friend's tone, "Harvey... This girl's not..."

But before he could finish, Harvey interrupts him, "A word to the not-so-wise about your little girlfriend Bruce. Do what you need to with her and broom her fast."

Harvey then takes Grace's hand while she glanced quickly at Bruce. Shocked by her husband's tone and attitude, "Harvey Dent, I will not tollerate your behavior and you're setting a bad example for our son."

Harvey turned to face his wife's angered look and felt ashamed, "I'm sorry everyone, I didn't mean to lose my temper."

"It's ok Harvey," Bruce said to his old friend, "But I'm still gonna throw you a fundraiser just like old times."

"That's nice of you Bruce, but I'm not up for re-election for another few years. That stuff won't start for..." But he was cut off when Bruce raised his hand, "I don't think you understand. One fundraiser with my pals, you'll never need another cent."

Harvey wasn't so sure but Jeffery gave him a concerned look, "Please Dad, Godfather knows what he's doing." Looking at his son, Harvey took a deep breath and said, "Ok Bruce, you got yourself a deal."

End of Flashback...

Location: Janus theater, Gotham City - Night

Terry slowly regained consciousness as his head was still covered by an old burlap sack. "Up and at 'em, Terrence," Two-Face said as he pulled the bag off of Terry's head. "Nap time's over." Terry looked around, trying to take his bearings, as it was pitch black.

"Ladies, Lights!" Two-Face said as the lights go on and Terry looked around, it was a crumbling theater somewhere in what was left of the historical district, early 20th century from the look of the well worn posters that lined the wall, though the only one he could make out was an ad for a stage production of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

"Camera!" Two-Face continued, as he pointed to Deila who held up a futuristic looking camera to her face. "ACTION!" The light suddenly shifted focus towards the crumbling remains of the stage. Terry's face suddenly went white, there, on the stage was his mother, gagged, and tied to a mechanism, on top of which, was a large canister, containing a green liquid. The canister was aimed right at her face, and if the liquid was released it could possibly disfigure or kill her.

"MOM!" Terry shouted, his eyes burning with fury. His mother tried to say something, however the gag prevented her son from making out what she was trying to say. Terry rushed to try and get his mom free but just as he came within range, Two-Face tripped Terry with his Double headed Cobra Supreme Cane.

"Trying to be a hero isn't a wise idea kid," Two-Face said, Terry counted to ten to try and control himself, he'd already failed once, and it had cost him his father, he wouldn't allow it to happen again, "Your mother is perfectly safe for the moment, as long as you don't do anything foolish."

"You don't have to do this Jeffery," Terry said, trying to reason with any good that remained in the demon who stood before him. On the right side, he had a normal navy blue suit with a white shirt and black tie. His right shoe was black leather. The unusual part about him was his left side as it was black and red zebra style stripes with a black shirt and a white tie with black polka dots. His studded shoe matched his coat.

Two-Face growled when he heard his real name mentioned as he grabbed Terry by the shirt, "Don't call me that! It's Two-Face to you, pretty boy!" as he pushes him back.

"You say that I don't have to do this?" Two-Face replied, his face growing cold, and unfriendly, "You don't understand, how could you understand? Everyone knows about how my old man got his face repaired and returned to normal society to marry mom, but no one knows what happened after. His life, his career were ruined, where was Batman when the city turned against pop for something he couldn't control, and where was Bruce Wayne when dad couldn't even get a job defending a jaywalker? Where were they when that accident left me looking like this and my career in ruins?"

"Is that what this is about," Terry asked, "Revenge?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," Two-Face replied, changing the subject, "Now, I'm going to explain this little setup, and it's very important that you pay attention," he pointed his cane at Delia, "I hope you don't mind her getting this on camera. I like to keep a record of all my dealings."

"Just make sure it's rolling when I rip both of your faces off," Terry replied.

"Such rudeness," Two-Face continued as he led Terry to the device, "Poised above your mother's lovely face is a container of concentrated sulfuric acid." He turned to Terry with a sinister smile that made his scarred face even more gruesome, "The very same acid that destroyed my life and my father's life. The valve that regulates the release of the acid is electronically controlled." Two-Face continued. Just then Deidre emerged from the shadows with a black box in her hand.

"Lurking in the shadows is my faithful henchgirl, Deidre. Take a bow, Dee-Dee." Two-Face commanded as she took a bow in front of them and smiled evily. "As you can see in Deidre's hand is the remote device that operates the vale." Two-Face continued. He suddenly turned to Terry, "Just to be perfectly clear, perhaps a little demonstration is in order. I think one drop should do it." Terry felt his heart sink at Two-Face's suggestion began to sink in.

"LET HER GO YOU PSYCHOTIC PIECE OF FILTH," Terry shouted, finally loosing control, "IF YOU WANT TO TORTURE SOMEONE, TORTURE ME!"

"A tempting offer, but I don't play with kid gloves." Two-Face said coldly, "But it's time you learn that Gotham is a warzone, and war is a contact sport in which neither side emerges unscathed."

Terry began to move closer to the criminal, "Please, STOP THIS! She's done nothing to you."

Two-Face raised a hand at Terry to stop him from lunging at him, "Now I advise you to stay where you are and control that mouth of yours. Any distraction may cause my assistant to 'accidently' release all two liters of acid onto your mother's face. We wouldn't want that now, would we?" He turned to the helpless victim strapped to the chair as Deila holds the camera, recording.

"Ready for your close-up, Mary," Two-Face inquired, "How about a smile for the viewers at home?" She looked up at the valve just in time to see a tiny drop of green liquid form around the valve. The liquid slowly lost its grip on the valve and in the space of a few seconds, but for Terry it felt like an eternity, splashed right next to her face, just as she closed her eyes as it began to eat away at the skin. For Two-Face, to hear Terry and his mother scream in horror was music to his ears, screams he longed to hear from all of Gotham.

"Whoops! That's going to leave a nasty scar." Two-Face said pondering at the sight, "Still, it's what's under the skin that counts, isn't it, Mary? The happy shining soul within."

"Whatever you want, I'll do it! Please just let her go." Terry begged, this was what Two-Face had been waiting for.

"Let her go?" Two-Face replied, as he turned to him with a smirk on his face, "Sure, I'll let her go. You only have to do one little thing." He turned to Deidre, "Dee-Dee if you please." As Deidre pressed one of the other buttons on the remote, another spot light came on, revealing a table with a Colt Python Stainless Steel .357 Magnum pistol on it.

"And finally the star of our show..." As another set of lights revealed a dark figure with a familiar red bat-shaped emblem hanging from the ceiling, chained up and gagged. "...The Batman!"

"Now," Two-Face said as he handed Terry the pistol, "here's the deal... Kill Batman, you and your mother go free."

"Kill Batman?" Terry asked.

Two-Face smiled, "Yep, gun to the head. Bang! What's so tough about that?"

Terry looked at the gun he was holding, the memory of that horrible night came back, how he came home, and saw his father lying in a pool of blood, his chest ripped open by the same type of weapon he was now holding, "I can't. I won't do that. It would be murder."

"If you don't shoot him," Two-Face warned him, "Then your mom gets a make-over. Two choices Terrence, 50-50 odds just like I had, and just like my old man had. The choice is yours."

Terry hesitated looking at the weapon in his hand, trembling, trying to think of something anything.

"But... he's a hero," Terry said, finally breaking the silence that had fallen over the theater, "He saved countless lives before."

"Exactly," Two-Face coldly replied, "But in fifty years who will remember him, in this world the only heroes are the ones who don't come back from their missions."

Terry remained silent, he wasn't sure about how to respond. "Mom," Terry said, lowering the weapon, "what do I do?" Two-Face simply smiled as he walked over to where Terry's mother was bound.

"Decisions, decisions," Two-Face said, coldly, as he ran his hand across the woman's face, "That's the way life always is, having to choose one thing or the other."

"How about it, Mrs. McGinnis?" Two Face continued, turning his attention towards Terry's mother, "You want to have your face burned off, or do you want to walk out of here and pretend like none of this happened? Wow tough choice?" He pretended to think as the terrified woman tried to speak, "Hmm... I think... she's telling you to..." He turned to Terry with an angry look, "...SHOOT HIM, YOU JERK!"

Terry knew his mother better then most, and knew she would never put another's life at risk, it was in that split second Terry made his decision. He swung towards Two-Face raising the pointed weapon right at the criminal's face.

"You of all people should know," Terry said, "there's always two ways out of any problem."

"Oh crap..." Two-Face said, sighing, and slowly raising his hands, "You're making a big mistake, Terrence."

"No," Terry replied, angrily, "I don't think so. Tell her to put the remote on the table right now."

"Do as he says." Two-Face said, slowly she followed the command, with Terry momentarily distracted, Two-Face reached into his jacket pocket.

"Now release my - HEY! KEEP YOUR HANDS UP!" Terry shouted as Two-Face drew a Chrome plated Benelli MP95E pistol he had kept hidden in a holster beneath his jacket.

"Well lookie here... Two guns," Two-Face smirked. "This one in my hand is a .22 caliber. My all time favorite."

"You're not leaving me a choice, Two-Face." Terry replied, as he pulled the trigger of the gun but nothing happened. He tried it a few more times only to discover that the gun's bullets had been removed as Two-Face couldn't help but laugh.

"You didn't think I wouldn't have a contingency plan incase you tried something?" Two-Face said, as he fired a burst into the ceiling, "Too bad for you, this one's loaded," he pointed the gun at Terry's face, "now drop it kid." Terry's face became red with fury, he wanted to fight back but couldn't, he didn't have a choice, he was defenseless and couldn't risk exposing his secret, especially to his mother. Slowly he lowered the gun in his hand.

"Like I said kid," Two-Face said, as he made his way to the captured Batman, and quickly removed the mask.

'An Impostor? I should've known,' Terry thought to himself 'there's no way Bruce would've allowed himself to be captured.'

"Meet Buttons McBoomBoom," Two-Face said, "my other trusty henchman." Two-Face helped his bodyguard out the shackles and looked at Terry, coldly "Don't you get it? No one was going to die here. If you only pulled the trigger," his voice became cold. "You'd both be on your way home. You've become so predictable, Terrence."

Terry pretended he didn't hear what Two-Face had to say, "You're like everyone else when things go according to plan, we weigh the rights and wrongs and we make a choice based on our own views of right and wrong. But you made a choice based on impulse. You thought you were doing the right thing, that by attacking me you could help your mother. But you didn't, and not only did you fail in taking me down, now your mother is going to die!"

"Why do this to her, she's done nothing to you! You can choose to end this tonight and just let us go!" Terry shouted.

"Hmm..." Two-Face sighed as he turned his back on him, "I used to believe in all kinds of things... Fairy tales... Justice... A benevolent god... Random acts of kindness... Santa Claus... Even my old man... But we all have to grow up some time," He turned around to face him again, "The fact is, in this world there's no justice and no one's watching over us," he slowly made his way over to Terry's mother, "I had to learn the hard way, that only fairy tales end happily ever after," he paused for a moment, "I'd like to choose not to do this. I really would. But it's out of my hands. I will give your mother one last chance, though. I owe you that."

He turned to face Terry, "I appreciate that you came to see me in Arkham a while back, you were the only one who did, and what you shared with me. Now I'm going to share what I've learned with you."

He slowly removed his trademark coin, holding it in front of Terry's face. "This is as close as you'll ever get to controlling your destiny. Life's a lottery, Terrence. It's chance that decides who lives and who dies. Who gets cancer and who doesn't. Which kid is born with spina bifida. Who gets run over by a truck. Who emerges from an accident unscarred with their lives still intact, and who looses everything. This is what decides whether or not I blow your mom's brains out." With that he tossed the coin into the air.

For Terry those five seconds felt like an eternity, he knew he had to act he'd already endured the loss of one parent, he couldn't bare to live through it again. Then again there were always two ways to solve a problem. It was in that split second he made his choice, with Two-Face distracted by his coin toss, Terry spied the empty weapon Two-Face had used to trick him, lying at his feet. Breathing in, Terry quickly ducked down, grabbed the weapon and threw it at Two-Face.

Two-Face barley had a chance to react before the pistol struck him in the face, dead center, momentarily stunning the criminal.

"Come on Mom," Terry said, grabbing his mother's hand, "now's our chance." The two made their way into the darkened theater, just as Two-Face regained his composure. Gazing at the ground he spied his coin, good side up. Normally he would've just let them go, but Terry needed to be taught a lesson in respect, and besides Terry himself had said there were always two ways with every choice.

"Shoot them," Two-Face shouted, at his henchmen "But don't kill them." Buttons ripped open his shirt, allowing two semi-automatic machine guns, switching to night vision Buttons locked onto Terry's mother and fired.

They were only a few yards from the entrance and safety, a smile crept over Terry's face, soon they would be able to put this whole ordeal behind them. But just as Terry's hand came within inches of the doorknob he heard his mother shriek. Turning just in time he watched as one of the blasts from Buttons tore into his mother's shoulder, nearly severing her arm in the process, and another ripped into her leg, sending her tumbling to the ground.

"MOM!" Terry shouted, as he raced to his mother's aid.

"Go Terry," his mother shouted, in a voice that sent chills down his spine, "Don't worry about me." He didn't listen, he couldn't allow it to happen again.

"I'm not leaving without you mom," Terry said, as he removed his jacket. With all his strength he tore it in half, using it to make makeshift bandages for his mother's wounds. "I'm getting you out of here one way or the other." No sooner had that final word left his mouth the sound of clapping echoed through the theater, slowly Two-Face and his henchmen emerged from the shadows.

"Very clever," Two-Face said, "had you just been a tad bit faster it might have been perfect," he once again drew his weapon, "or if you had just waited for the coin toss I would've let you and your mother live, but now I'm just going to kill you where you stand."

To be continue...


	13. Expect the Unexpected

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 13: Expect the Unexpected

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay everyone. Thank you everyone who added this story to your alert and favorite story list. Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: On top of Foxtecha Warehouse, across the street - Night

For the two men posted outside the door, it was the easiest job they could've received. They heard the sounds of screaming coming from the inside for the last few minutes, along with the occasonal burst of gunfire, however the fear Two-Face had instilled in all his men was total, they wouldn't dare leave their posts, unless it was in an ambulance, less they face Two-Face's wrath. From the corner of his eye, one of the guards gazed towards the abandoned Foxtecha Warehouse across the street, something on the roof seemed off, the shadows seemed darker.

"Hey Joe," the man said, nudging his companion in the ribs.

"What is it," the other man replied. The man pointed to the roof, Joe simply sighed, "you've been eyeing the old warehouse for the last ten minutes and for the last time the lights playing tricks on you."

"No," the man replied, "I've got a bad feeling, that we're being watched."

Black Scorpion sighed, she'd managed to duck down just as the two thugs cast their gazes toward the building.

"Okay," Black Scorpion said to herself, "that was too close." She quietly peaked her head above the slab of metal in front of her. The two guards looked as though they were begining to doze off again. She reached down to her utlity belt, removing a small hand gun and a small pellet.

Loading the pellet into her weapon, Black Scorpion took aim at the ground close to where the two guards were standing and fired. The only thing the two guards heard was the shattering of glass, as the pellet struck the area in front of them, releasing a red cloud that soon enveloped them, it didn't take long for them to realize what it was: Knockout gas, but before either of them had a chance to react they were overcome by the gas.

Breathing in Black Scorpion removed a second item from her utility belt, this time a grapling hook and connected it to her weapon, this time she aimed toward a boarded up window on the second floor, just above the entrance to the theater, and fired.

"Perfect shot," Black Scorpion said to herself, as she tested the line. Breathing in heavily she lept from the roof, swinging towards the window, making it by only a few inches.

Location: Second Floor, old theater, historic district, Gotham City - Night

Black Scorpion made her way across the floor as quietly as possible, she could make out the sounds from the floor below, only vaguely. Pearing through a small hole in the floor Black Scorpion spotted Terry and his mother, being surrounded by Two-Face's thugs. From her vangtage point she was able to make out a familar figure.

"Well well," Black Scorpion whispered, "it seems like the Bug Hater is still up to hanging around with Senior Duality," it was then she spied a spider climbing up a near by, "time for a little fun."

Location: First floor, old theater, historic district, Gotham City

Terry let out an ear splitting scream, as the cold steel of the crowbar made contact with his shoulder, knocking him against a near by wall.

"Is that the best you can do?" Terry snarled, spitting into his assailant's face. Buttons McBoomBoom simply snarled, as his chest opened revealing a pair of high powered twin machine guns.

"End of the line," Buttons said, as his targeting system locked onto Terry and his mother, however just before his systems could lock on, he felt something land on his hat. A chill ran up his metallic spine, as he felt what could only be a spider crawl onto the back of neck. From the corner of his eye he could make out a small shadow emerging from the back of his hat, a spider.

"GET IT OFF OF ME!" Buttons shouted, as he twirled around, shooting his weapons off wildly at anything that seemed to move, sending his comrades racing for cover.

"STOP SHOOTING YOU FOOL!" Two-Face shouted, but the cyborg refused to listen, bullets struck all around, from the corner of his eye Two-Face watched as one of the shots, struck a near by column.

"NO YOU FOOL," Two-Face shouted, "That's the primary support collumn." Two-Face's plea fell on deaf ears, as the bullet blasts tore through the column as though it wasn't even there, for the old theater the damage to the column was all that it could stand. A loud rumbling sound began to echo through out the building, followed soon after by the sounds of crumbling mason and breaking steel as the building began to cave in on itself.

"EVERYONE OUT!" Two-Face shouted, signaling his gang to fall back. Buttons continued shooting, blindly as more debries, and even more insects fell on top of him.

"Come on mom," Terry said, as he grabbed his mother by the arm, "we have to go now." Just as Mary was about to get to her feet, she was struck in the back of the head by a large chunck of cement, sending her carining to the floor, unconcious.

Terry raced to his mother's side, as more of the building began to come down around him. Terry reached his mother's side just as another burst from Buttons's bullets struck the area near where his mother lay unconcious.

"Come on mom," Terry said, trying to wake her, "this whole place is coming down." He'd already lost one parent he wouldn't loose another. But just as he was about to lift his mother's unconcious body one of the cyborg's bullets struck his shoulder, knocking him against the wall.

Just as Terry fell the ground, his shoulder torn open by the bullet, another support column gave way, this time causing a huge portion of the second floor to give way, creating a pile of burning debris between Terry and the cyborg even though it bought Terry the time he needed to help his mother, it also allowed the cyborg to slip away.

From the corner of his eye, Terry could make out a familiar figure, that of Black Scorpion, who had been attempting to make her way out of the collapsing theater, only to have the floor give way before she could reach the window.

"Help," Terry shouted, trying to get Black Scorpion's attention, "My mom's hurt bad." Black Scorpion remained silent, as she raced to Terry's side.

"How bad?" Black Scorpion inquired.

"I don't know," Terry replied, "debries hit her in the head," he moaned in pain, "Listen my shoulder's shot up pretty good and I can't carry her on my own."

"So you need my help," Black Scorpion said, as she helped Mary up, "grab her other arm, this whole place is going to come down any minute." Terry remained silent, moaning slightly at the pain in his sholder, with all his remaining strength he lifted his mother's other arm, and placed it around his neck.

Just as the building was about to fully collapse, Terry managed to kick the jammed front door open, and the trio staggered out just as the theater finally came crashing down. The sounds of approaching Police and Fire units was all that was needed to convince Black Scorpion it was time to leave, but for Terry even as the first rescue units arrived, all he could do was gaze at his mother's unconcious face, the acid scar still clearly visible despite the heavy dust that sat on his mother's skin, and quietly sob.

Location: The Batcave a few days later

Terry paced back and forth across the stone floor, his mind had been fixated on the events of the previous day. Two-Face II had succeeded only where even Bane had failed, he had broken Batman but where as Bane had broken Bruce physically Two-Face had inflicted a deep emotional wound that Terry would have to conqure himself. He held the black cowl tightly in his hand, gazing off into the darkness.

His mind drifting back to the confrontation he'd had with his mother, how the tone of his mother's voice told him that she was both proud of him, proud of the fact he didn't take another man's life to save her, but also disappointment, disappointment that the real Batman hadn't showed up to save her, disappointment that Terry waited so long to try and help her resulting in the scar that now ran down the side of her face like a tear drop.

For what seemed like an eternity he tried to come up with an answer that wouldn't jepordize him or Bruce Wayne.

"How?" Terry said, under his breath, "how could I have let that happen, Batman doesn't fail."

"That's not at all true," Bruce said, as made his way from the shadow, Terry's words awakening memories of his own failures: his failure to prevent the shooting of James Gordon, his failure to save Tim, but more then anything it awakened the memories of a story he had never shared with anyone other then Barbara, Tim and Dick, the failure that had partly influenced his decision to sever all contacts with his "family".

"How can you say that?" Terry asked, "I've read the stories of your exploits Bruce you never failed." Bruce remained silent, he knew sooner or later this moment would come.

"Terry," Bruce said, it was the first time Terry ever saw a tear come from his mentor's eye, "I'm sorry for what he's done to your mother, but I know somewhere inside that monster is still my Godson and I know you can succeed where the others have not."

"THIS IS DIFFERENT," Terry shouted, "I'm not like the others you took in, I have a mother and a brother who need my help, I'm not some orphan."

"That maybe so," Bruce replied, "But you still have your responsibilities as Batman." Terry once again turned his gaze toward the mask clenched tightly in his hand.

"It's just," Terry replied, "I don't know if I can do this anymore, I've already lost one parent, no matter how much I try not to think about it I can't go through it again." Bruce remained silent, he knew full well how Terry felt. He knew better then anyone what the sting of loosing loved ones felt like, it was something that he'd already been through more then once in his life and career, the fact that he'd been able to endure it and not loose a part of himself.

"Try to understand Terry," Bruce said, trying to hold back his emotions, "Batman isn't invincible, and no matter who wears the mask he can't be every where he's needed. That was a lesson I learned the hard way."

"There was nothing you could've done," Terry replied, harshly, "This isn't about some orphan you took in off the street, this is about the fact that I can't handle being Batman anymore, not after what happened to my mother." Bruce remained silent.

"If it hadn't been for Black Scorpion," Terry continued, "Two-Face would've finished us both off, and I couldn't do anything about it, without jeopardizing my secret and you."

Bruce wanted to say something, he knew full well what it felt like to be trapped by the fact he couldn't risk revealing his secret. It was then Terry made his decision. He tossed the cowl to his mentor's feet.

"I'm sorry Mr. Wayne," Terry said, with a heavy heart, "I just can't do it anymore. Out of all the foes I have ever fought before, Two-Face is the one I truly fear the most."

"Terry..." Bruce stated

"No! You don't understand! He would never harm you, Barbara or his own family. But he had to hurt my family or anyone not related to him." Terry said in raw anger.

Bruce and Terry's eyes met momentarillary, Terry bowed his head and made his way towards the Batcave's exit, for what he'd hoped would be the last time.

Location: McGuiness Household, an hour later - Night

Mary McGuiness, stroked the bandage on her cheek, which covered the acid burn she had recieved from Two-Face. Her mind was racing, part of her wanted to disown Terry for not helping her, but part of her was proud he hadn't pulled that trigger. It was at that moment Mary heard the sound of the door opening, and Terry entering. Mary quickly raced down the stairs to see her eldest son standing in the door way, soaked to the bone by the rainstorm outside.

"Terry," Mary said, as she slowly approached him.

"I'm sorry Mom," Terry said, as he embraced her, "I'm sorry I couldn't help you." Mary sighed.

"It's okay," Mary said, as she pointed to the bandage on her face, "this is just cosmetic damage, beauty has never mattered to me as much as you and Matt."

"It's just," Terry said, with a tear forming in his eye, "If I had just shot Batman, none of this would've happened." She placed her hand on Terry's shoulder.

"It may have saved my face," Mary replied, smiling, "But your father and I didn't raise you to be a killer, and my heart wouldn't have been able to stand seeing my son take another man's life." She slowly made her way over to the shelf pulling a book off, inside were dozens of old newspaper clippings of Bruce's final days as Batman.

"I never really shared this with anyone," Mary said, "but when I was a girl, I'd always admired Batman, not for his gadgets or his crimefighting, but for the fact that no matter what he faced, he never surrendered to the darkness that consumes this city more each day. More then anything Batman had given us the hope that Gotham was not beyond saving and that we could do something. For me the day it was annouced he had disappeared was Gotham's darkest hour." Terry didn't know how to respond.

"When the news broke that Batman had vanished," Mary continued, "the city turned into a warzone. The police did all they could, but there was little chance of stopping the bloodshed. Martial Law was declared soon after Mayor Hamilton Hill was assassintated but the troops deployed didn't stay long, rumors still circulate that the Feds made a deal with the gangs, they could have Gotham as long as they didn't try to escape, and our city became a prison, the only shining light that came for us was the news that Batman had once again taken up his mantel. For those of us who had no hope it was a blessing and when he defeated the leader of the Mutants the people began to fight back, slowly retaking the city, slowly rebuilding and yet once again Batman vanished and ever since then I never lost the hope that he'd one day return, and now that he has," she slowly made her way over to the window, "this city once again has a reason to show the world that there are still good people who live here and if we loose Batman again I don't know think this city would survive."

Terry didn't know how to reply. He'd never heard his mother talk like this before.

"Terry what Two-Face did to me," Mary continued, "it's nothing a little make up or cosmetic surgery can't fix, but if you'd done what he'd wanted, for me and your brother, the wounds would be something no ammount of make up or surgery could ever hope to heal."

Terry wanted to say something, but before he could Mary put her fingers over his mouth. "No matter what has happened," Mary said, "I'm proud of you for making the right decision."

From the corner of his eye, Terry spotted his younger brother standing in the doorway, a small tear forming in his eye. Terry thought back to how Matt had told him about how Two-Face's thugs had kidnapped their mother, yet he also told him how he'd hid in a closet, hoping and praying that Batman would arrive to save their mother in time. Terry wanted to say something, he wanted to tell Matt that it wasn't his fault, yet he couldn't. The gaze in Matt's eyes told him everything: why didn't Batman help mom before Two-Face hurt her, why did Terry not act?

"I," Terry said, "I've got to get some air." With that Terry ran out the door before Mary had a chance to stop him.

Location: Gotham City Historical District - Night

Terry wasn't sure how long he'd been walking, his mind had been drifting back to the events that had transpired. Maybe if he'd been at home when Two-Faces's goons had kidnapped his mother, maybe he could've done something. The silence of the area was only broken by the sound of thunder from an approaching storm.

Terry had only been to the historic district once before, and that had been a long time ago. He'd listened to Mr. Wayne's stories about what Gotham had been like before he became Batman, about how the area known as Crime Alley had once been a vibrant neighborhood, full of hopes and dreams before an economic depression turned it into a slum that was little more then a shell of it's former glory. Eventually he came upon a familiar sight, the old theater Bruce had showed him, the theater he and his family had gone to on that horrible night so long ago.

Terry paused for a few moments, he tried to think about what Wayne had gone through, hearing those two shots, watching first his father, and then his mother hit the ground, in pools of blood, yet as he thought about the event that had driven Bruce to become Batman he thought back to the event that had led him to becoming Batman, the guilt that the last thing he ever did with his father was argue, how his dad had only wanted to help his son and how his pride and arrogence had led him to to throw his father's advice back into his face.

Bruce had once told him that when he became Batman, every time he went out he thought that this would be the day he would finally stop the two bullets that had ruined his life, at times Terry thought the same thing every time he doned the Tomorrow Knight's armor, that this would be the day he would stop the bullet that took his father's life, and maybe finally be able to say good bye as he'd wanted too but had been too proud to do.

"Cold night to be out on your own kid," a voice said from behind, Terry turned around to see an elderly man behind him. He's pale, the healthy tan gone. His face is gaunt, wrinkles forming where there shouldn't be-not yet, anyway. He's always looked at least 10 years younger than he was by nature, so all those extra lines are not from age. There are dark circles under his glazed-over blue eyes, and his long ebony hair has-for the most part-gone white. He's thinner, too. The long coat he wears is hanging off of his shrunken frame. His clothes are as well baggy on him. Lastly, Terry notice that his strong hands are almost constantly clenched at his sides, gone white at the knuckles. The list of possible reasons for his appearence is a small one.

"I don't believe we've ever had a chance to meet," the man continued, "Dick Grayson. You and I have to talk."

"_The_ Dick Grayson? Former Nightwing and the second Robin?" Terry asked as his eyes went wide.

"I guess Bruce told you about him being Robin." Dick stated while smirking.

To be continued...


	14. Retribution

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 14: Retribution

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay everyone. Thank you everyone who added this story to your alert and favorite story list. Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Midnight Fire Bar and Grill, a half hour later - Night

"You mean to say that you were the second Robin?" Terry inquired with shock.

"You could say that," Dick replied, as he took a sip of his Crown Royal whiskey drink, "Bruce took me in after my parents were killed. However I wasn't the first Robin per-say, that title belongs to Bruce himself." Terry remained silent, he'd heard Bruce mentioned that the former Dark Knight himself was the original Robin as the former Nightwing continued his drink.

"So what happened between you two?" Terry asked, Dick breathed in heavily, this was something he'd long since tried to forget.

"Bruce and me had a difference of opinons," Dick replied, as the memories of the last night he'd worked with Bruce as Robin, "Bruce tried to intimidate a crook we were chasing in front of his family. When I tried to stop him, he wouldn't listen," Dick couldn't help but smile a little, "he's always had a thick head, but I never thought he'd go as far as he did that day. After that, I couldn't work with him any longer and I left that very day. However I didn't come here to reminice about what's been done."

"Really," Terry said harshly, "then why are you here?"

"Bruce called me even though we aren't on speaking terms," Dick replied, "but he told me about what happened to your mother." Terry remained silent, he'd tried to drum out the memories of the past few hours, how he craddled Matt in his arms when their mother had been taken to the hospital, and how both of them wept when the doctor's told them she'd be alright, except for the acid scar Two-Face had given her.

"What of it?" Terry said, coldly, trying his best to avoid the question.

"What do you plan to do about it?" Dick inquired. Terry slammed his fist.

"What do I plan to do about it?" Terry replied, angrily, "I'll hunt Two-Face down, and then end him." Dick remained silent, "I'll do what Bruce was too afraid to do, I'll ensure that Two-Face will never be able to harm anyone again."

"Listen," Dick said, "This is why Bruce called me, he feared what happened to your mother would push you to the edge."

"Flattering," Terry replied, angrily, "Don't try to talk me out of it, my mind's made up."

"Did you ever wonder why Bruce never took another life," Dick asked, "It wasn't out of some misplaced moral code, it's because it would be too easy, too quick. He'd seen death once before, and more then anything he wouldn't put another family through loosing a loved one, but more importanally he knew that once you start down that path, there's no going back." Terry remained unconvinced.

"So what would you suggest I do?" Terry inquired, "Sit back and do nothing, let that maniac run rampant?" Terry slowly stood up, slapping a few credits onto the table, before making his way to the door.

"No, not this time." Dick simply sat there, as Terry made his way out of the dinner. No sooner had Terry left his sight, his cell phone began to ring.

"Hello," Dick said, coldly.

"Did you talk with Terry?" Bruce asked.

Dick replied, "Your suspicions about Terry seem to be proving justified. He's determined to kill Two-Face, with or without your approval."

Location: Mayor's Penthouse, Downtown - Night

'This is the kind of stakeout I can get behind,' thought Detective Darcy Alcana as she sipped from her Caipirinha cocktail. Usually police stakeouts occurred in a cramped van outside a crack house or something like that.

This particular stakeout took place in a uptown penthouse, and instead of her police uniform, Darcy wore a long deep red, stylish open red dress (known as a Manchurian-Chinese qipao) with a gold design of butterflies on it and a flowing black ribbon worn around her neck that falls down her back with black high heels. The low cut front of the dress seemed to barely contain her cleavage.

'It's not every day you get to feel sexy and fight crime,' thought Darcy, and then mentally corrected herself. As her alter ego, the vigilante Black Scorpion, she combined sexy and toughness quite easily. Darcy sighed, praying she wouldn't have to use her Black Scorpion outfit on this night cause she thought many people who might oppose Black Scorpion using her skimpy outfit as ammo in their arguments against her.

Darcy took another sip from her cocktail and surveyed the room, nothing but the elite of Gotham City, dressed in silly costumes, filled the massive penthouse. The penthouse in question belonged to the Mayor of Gotham City, who was celebrating his daughter's birthday. Apparently his daughter had been receiving death threats, so of course daddy pulled out Gotham City's finest to protect his little baby.

But against the insistence of the Gotham City Police Department, the mayor had still kept his daughter's wishes and kept it a costume party.

'We're like sitting ducks,' thought Darcy. You could tell the plain clothes police men in attendance because they had no costumes on.

Darcy turned and saw her partner, Detective Jesse Reese, making his way through the various silly costumes to her.

He wore a dark blue pinstriped three-piece suit with a red tie that has white polka dots on it and black shoes as he reached the bar and ordered a single malt scotch whiskey drink for himself. Unlike everyone else, who ignore the weird things that happen after night falls in Gotham City, he is searching for the truth. Because of that he ends up encountering The Batman. In the beginning he is very skeptical, even attempting to arrest him but Batman out smarted the cop and flown the coop and Jesse still does not trust the Vigilante which is why he is on a mission to unmask The Tomorrow Knight.

"Have you found the birthday girl?" Darcy asked her partner.

"Oh I'm sure no one will miss her." Jesse took a long drink.

"What do you mean?" Darcy went on edge, her cop instincts kicking in.

"Just look..." Jesse pointed towards a crowd forming at the other end of the penthouse, Darcy craned her neck to see what everyone was looking at.

Darcy tried to hide her distaste at the sight of the mayor's daughter, Megan, dressed in silken green hose clung to shapely legs, slim with a dancer's hidden strength. Green leaves covered the sensuality of her hips, the soft curve of her breast as it took in breath and released it with a sigh. Lips as red as blood roses parted slightly, and dazzling green eyes were framed by hair of spun flame, dancing on top of a grand piano and pouring champagne on her chest.

"She's dressed as Poison Ivy?" Darcy tightened one of her hands into a fist.

"Yep, I guess that's an F-you to dad." Jesse replied

The mayor was steadfastly opposed to a vigilante enforcing the law, and even appointed a new ambitious District Attorney Sam Young to head his witch hunt.

"Well this won't be awkward." Darcy hoped daddy put his little girl in her place, bad enough she was making the original Poison Ivy look bad.

Soon enough Mayor Walter Davis came running out, pulling his drunken daughter off the piano, the Poison Ivy clad brat fought back drunkenly as daddy pulled her into a nearby room.

"Well at least we're allowed to drink on the job." laughed Jesse as he took another drink.

Darcy nodded and ordered another drink, this was indeed a long night. She remembered when she was first partnered up with Jesse when she came to Gotham City a few years back.

Flashback, 4 years ago...

Location: Gotham Police HQ - Night

Detective Jesse Reese was at his workstation of his cluttered Precinct One office, was finding it difficult to focus on the big case that had landed in his lap when Chief Angel Rojas opened the door and came in, "Get anything on our vigilante this time, Reese?"

"Besides the fact that he Bat-wrapped Tyrus Block's butt for us?" Jesse replied honestly. He heard how Batman raided the penthouse of the criminal gangster who was also part of the high stakes poker game called The Derby, and the reports stated that Tyrus watched his men get quickly subdued by The Tomorrow Knight. Tyrus attempted to escape by leaping out the window onto the ledge of a water tower across the street while Batman followed him however and easily knocked him out.

"Well, it's up to you and your partner see to it that this urban legend doesn't become a folk hero again." Chief Rojas said with disgust. He only respects the men and women in the police force who give their lives for Gotham, not vigilantes in masks. He thinks that they are just doing good so that they can be above the law. To him, Batman is nothing but another masked vigilante that is opposing his own point-of-view on crime. All Chief Rojas is trying to do is unmask The Tomorrow Knight, and throw him into New Arkham.

"Partner? Since when?" Jesse asked

"Since I decided two heads are better then one." As he stepped aside, a plain clothes female cop entered the room. She was a caucasian woman with silky-black hair tied into a ponytail and a sharp pair of eyes that seemed to spot even the smallest detail. The GCPD badge pinned to her cherry-red coat would normally be a beacon for most characters.

"Detective Jesse Reese meet Detective Darcy Alcana, formally of Metropolis P.D. their loss." Chief Rojas introduced the woman before him.

"Howdy, partner." she said as she extended her hand to Jesse.

Jesse stood up from his desk and shook her hand, "Welcome to Gotham."

"Now that you two are acquainted, bring me this Batman, whoever he is." Chief Rojas stated to them as he left the office.

"Let me tell you something. Old Bats never leaves a trace." Jesse stated to his new partner as they went over the case notes on the current vigilante, "No prints, no follicles, no match on tire tracks."

"Hmm, custom jobs..." Darcy ponders

"The Dude has resources." Jesse pointed out

"And a knack for showing up where crime is and police aren't." Darcy replied

"Still I've never laid eyes on him until now." Jesse stated

End of Flashback...

Location: Gordon's residence, two hours later - Night

Barbara Gordon had just arrived home from work a few hours prior, and had been spending some much needed quiet time in her home study, sitting in front of her desk's built in holo-computer, pouring over the latest police reports and checking on the latest news reports. Her husband D.A. Sam Young had entered the study behind her and watched as she shook her head, an A.P.B, had just been issued for Two-Face and his gang ever since it had been reported that they had abducted and tortured a local woman from her house.

"Sweetheart?" Sam asked, as he approached his wife from behind.

"What is it Sam?" Barbara asked, as she switched off the holo-computer.

"I found this next to our bed," Sam replied, handing her a vanilla envelope,"any ideas who it's from?"

"No?" Barbara said, with a hint of concern to her voice, as she opened the envelope, concern because mail, outside of packages and other large shipments was usually delivered electronically, and the fact Sam had found it in their bed room pointed to the idea that someone had broken in. The contents of the envelope was an old wedding invitation from a few years prior. The message on the card sent chills down her spine: "We request the pleasure of your company, To witness the marriage and celebration of love between Melanie Walker To Jeffery Dent on Saturday, the 14th of February, 2044. 2pm, at St. Michael's United Church. Reception to follow."

Barbara looked at the card with a hint of confusion, it had to be some sort of prank. Before she could form a reply, Barbara heard the sounds of someone approching them from behind. She closed her eyes, and simply sighed, after years of being Batgirl and enduring Bruce's intense training, along with her own experiences back when she was a beat cop working her way up, Barbara was use to hearing the sounds of approaching footsteps.

She quietly took her husband's hand and smiled, as if assuring him everything would be okay. The small chime of a coin as it was being flipped into the air, over and over again filled the room. Barbara leaned back into the chair as the sound of yet another coin flip filled the eerily quiet room, she took a deep breath and then finally spoke. "Hello Jeffery."

"It's Two-Face now Aunt Barbara," a growled voice answered from the other side of the room.

"Just like your father," Barbara replied as she slowly turned around, on the other side of the room, Two-Face sat in a recliner, flipping his coin and holding a Chrome plated Benelli MP95E pistol at her and her husband.

"What do you want?" she said as she gestured to the card, "and what's with the old wedding invitation? Is this supposed to be some kind of sick joke?"

They noticed that Two-Face was dressed in a strange outfit. One half of his Armani suit is a trim light gray over a navy blue silk shirt with a red tie that never goes out of style, though you could contend that the look has never been more in style than right now while the left side was made of vertical black and white stripes like a decaying convict's suit over a purple shirt and black tie.

"Oh dear Aunt Barb, you're confusing me with someone else." Two-Face said as he continued to flip the coin as if he were practicing to judge Barbara's fate. "That was a card I had printed years ago before my unfortunate 'accident'. I thought it would be easier to pitch a date to her if she could see it on a card. I never had a chance to show it to her though."

Barbara realized there was only one course of action, she had to reach a pistol she kept hidden under the desk, yet to do so would require keeping Two-Face distracted, without drawing his suspicion.

"How did you manage to escape from the asylum?" Barbara asked, as she moved her hand toward's the weapon's hiding place.

"Ever since old crazy Dr. Arkham's daughter got the asylum back from the city, security is nowhere near the class act like it used to be under her dear old dad." Two-Face replied as he continued to flip his coin. "Lizzie Arkham spends more time trying to be Gotham's next White Knight instead of keeping those of us who are simply evil locked away," he sighed for brief second, "I still can't believe you took the time to have me transferred to that place."

"You needed help Jeffery," before Barbara had a chance to finish her statement, Two-Face slowly approached her - a sophisticated thud of a right leather shoe and a left jingle of a light metal plated boot alternating with each foot as he struck her in the face with the butt of his pistol.

"That's twice you called me that, never use that name in my present." Two-Face snapped, with a very unsympathetic feeling towards her efforts. "I am who I am, and your little public relations battle against the crime and corruption that has plagued this accursed city for nearly three centuries is no longer my concern."

"What is your concern then?" Sam inquired, as he knelt down by his wife's side.

"Justice." Two-Face said as he held the coin up for Barbara and Sam. "Your date with Justice was only delayed. But tonight you will finally face true, unbiased and righteous justice."

"What if we refuse to play your game?" Sam frankly asked.

"You both don't have a choice." Two-Face said as he got ready to start. "Either you take your chances with Justice or you'll lose by default for not playing along, because there's nothing I'd like to do more than to put two bullets in your skulls." He raised his pistol to eye level and Sam could tell the disfigured maniac in front of him was deadly serious just like his father had been, "and as for trying to reach that hidden pistol Aunt Barbara, don't bother, I'm holding it to your head."

This was a situation Barbara had never wanted to be in, but if she was given a choice this would be the time she would want to go through it.

"All right," she said, fighting against every instinct of her being, "let's get this over with. Call it."

"Very well then," Two-Face said, rather surprised that Barbara had backed down, "This side you live." he showed the side of his coin that was still in mint condition. He then turned to the other side, which was covered with massive scratch marks. "This side you die. Understood?" Barbara didn't say anything she simply put the card back onto the table and adjusted her glasses just incase she didn't win the flip.

It only took Two-Face a few seconds to toss the coin into the air but the anticipation made it feel like an eternity. Two-Face held out his hand and Barbara could hear the faint slapping of the coin, which seemed to her like the sound of a gong, as it landed perfectly flat on his hand. A cold smile crept over Two-Face's scarred visage as he looked down at the coin. Slowly, and with a cold laugh, he put the coin back into his pocket, it was then he pointed the pistol in their direction.

"You loose Aunt Barbara," Two-Face grined, as he slowly pulled the trigger. All Barbara could do was close her eyes and wait for the end to come. It seemed like an eternity but Barbara could make out the bang of the gun, but there was no flash and nor did she feel the bullet from the pistol strike her. A few seconds later she heard a thud, of something striking the floor.

When she opened her eyes the entire room was dark. Instead of shooting them, Two-Face had shot out the light and used the darkness to cover his escape. Barbara quickly grabbed the pistol Two-Face had dropped in the confusion and raced down the stairs. She quickly came into the kitchen and then into the living room, waving the gun around and looking all over the place.

"Jeffery!" she called out but there was no answer. "JEFFERY!"

Location: Two-Face's limo, a few moments later

"Gee Boss," One of the Dee-Dee Twins named Delia said, "How come you spared the Commish like that?" Two-Face ignored her, as he removed the coin from his pocket, it had landed scarred side up, and yet he didn't kill Barbara or Sam. But it didn't matter they had gotten the message.

"Simple girls," Two-Face snapped, "I didn't plan to kill them this time, only instill fear in them." He removed a small brief case from beneath his seat.

"That doesn't sound like you sir," the other Dee-Dee named Deidre added.

"Enough," Two-Face snapped, "we have more important things to do," he opened the brief case, revealing notes he had been working on since breaking out of New Arkham, "If you must know I spared them so they could watch as I make Gotham pay for what it did to my family."

"You mean it's time?" Delia asked.

"Indeed," Two-Face replied, coldly, "It's taken much effort but I've finally succeeded in duplicating the gas my father intended to use many years ago, and once the clock strikes 2:00 AM on the 22nd there will only be two kinds of people in Gotham City, the dead and the dying."

To be continued...


	15. Dreams and Nightmares

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 15: Dreams and Nightmares

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay everyone. Thank you everyone who added this story to your alert and favorite story list. Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Gordon Household, a few moments later - Night

The sounds of police sirens broke the cold silence of the night, as a ring of hover cars and hover cycles surrounded Barbara's house. Barbara and Sam had been removed from the residence and taken to a waiting ambulance to be checked, outside of being shaken by the events, they appeared to be fine, but Barbara wasn't wiling to take any chances, her previous experiences with Jeffery's father had taught her that Two-Face's plans always had two parts, and what had transpired didn't fit Two-Face's M.O, true he had long since fled the scene, she still wasn't taking any chances.

Bomb Squads scowered the entire residence and even the area's surrounding the Commissioner's house, searching for any signs of a bomb, or sabotage that would endanger Barbara and Sam.

"Is everything okay," Barbara asked, as she approached the ambulance Sam was in.

"I'm fine," Sam replied, he couldn't help but giggle, "You'd think being the commissoner's husband and after that assassin incident I'd be used to people trying to kill me." Barbara didn't know how to respond, as she excused herself. Barbara made her way to a secluded spot, and grabbed her cellphone from her pocket, slowly she dialed a number she hadn't thought necessary to dial in years.

"Hello," the voice on the other end said.

"Bruce," Barbara replied, "It's Barbara, there's something we need to discuss."

Location: Batcave, a few moments later

Bruce sighed, as he lowered the phone, he couldn't believe what Barbara had just told him, it confirmed his worst fears, Two-Face was becoming more bold, more brazen in his actions, whatever he was planning, he was about to unleash it.

Bruce turned his attention to the books that lined the console in front of him, he'd been working day and night for the last trying to piece together whatever it was Two-Face was planning, and with any amount of luck, maybe even find a cure for his tormented godson.

Maybe it was the weight of the work, the annxiety or the anger about what had just happened to Barbara and Sam but his mind began to drift back, he remembered the complaints Jeffery had filed with him about harassments by other employees, and while he'd done all he could, the employees had broken no rules at the time, and his requests for a transfer had been turned down by the supervisor on the grounds he was needed where he was.

With his mind becoming full of memories he wished to forget, Bruce began to drift off.

*Begin dream sequence*

Location: Gotham City Streets - Night

The sound of rapid footsteps echoed through the night, as a frighten man races down a twisted street, reminicant of the nightmares that tormented Edger Allen Poe. An eerie mist cloaks the city scape, in darkness obscuring the twisted buildings that tower over the street ghostly mountains. The man is dressed in an expensive dark grey suit with a bright white shirt, black belt, and black dress shoes. His tie is in a different color, striped red and blue with thin lines of white separating them and a white lab coat.

Dr. Jeffery Dent races out of the mist, panting heavily, he halts at the end of the block and looks to the right and left.

The look to his face is one of absolute fright, as though he's trying to escape from someone or something. In the distance he could hear the sounds of sadistic laughter, echoing through the night, the sounds of those who had tormented him for so long, yet there was one voice that frightened him the most, it was a low pitch laugh.

"Jeffery," the voice said, "it's time." Jeffery couldn't wait any longer, he raced off to the right.

A few seconds later another figure emerges from the mist: a figure garbed in his usual black blazer and pale blue shirt underneath, Bruce Wayne. Jeffery froze in his tracks, the only sounds coming from his out of control breathing, slowly he began to back up, as if trying to get away. No sooner had he begun to back up, Jeffery suddenly found himself standing at the edge of a deep chasm. A smoky haze rises from the chasm and orange light flickers far below. Spanning the pit was a rickety wooden bridge, with him standing in the center.

"Jeffery!" Bruce said, as he hesitantally approached the edge of the bridge.

"Stay back!" Jeffery shouted. His voice guttural, rasping as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Jeffery please!" Bruce pleaded as he took a step back from the chasm. "Let me help you!"

"Let you help?" Jeffery shouted as he pointed an accusing finger. "You knew that something was terribly wrong at your company that I worked for. Where were you when I was being harrassed by your employees? My parents thought you were their friend and they trusted you! You should have been able to help me! But you didn't! Just like you didn't help my father when he needed you!"

Bruce remained frozen, as he thought back to that terrible night so long ago, the sight of his best friend lying upon that walk way, half his face completly blown away by the force of that explosion, had he only been a few seconds sooner or if his aim had been a centimeter off the accident that created the first Two-Face would never have happened.

"But I tried, Jeffery." Bruce's voice cracked with despair as he fought to control his emotions, "I tried to help him just like I tried to help you."

"Tried?" Jeffery thundered as he revealed his face which is now divided into two halves, one strong and handsome, the other horribly disfigured, a mask of rage and pain. "YOU CALL THIS TRIED? You allowed it to happen again! JUST LIKE YOU ALLOWED IT TO HAPPEN TO MY FATHER!"

"That's not true," Bruce replied, as the bridge gave way without warning sending Jeffery plunging into the abyss.

"Why couldn't you save me... save me... save meeeee..." His voice echoed from the walls of the chasm, growing fainter as he falls from out of sight.

"Jeffery!" Bruce cried as he rushed to the edge of the pit. "No!" It was then that he heard an all too familiar sound, the sound of a coin being flipped.

"You could've save him Bruce." Bruce slowly turned around, and found himself face to face with the no longer scarred Harvey Dent, "just like you could've saved me and them." his hand pointed to the shadows, as they began to form a long dark alley way, the sound of two gunshots echoing through the darkness.

There standing over two motionless bodies was a young boy, slowly one of the bodies began to rise, Bruce fell back in horror, it was the decayed corpse of his long dead father.

"Why couldn't you save us son?" Thomas Wayne said, "Why didn't you act like a man and stop him?" Slowly the other body rose, revealing the decayed corpse of his mother.

"HELLLP US BRUCE," Martha Wayne said, her voice shreaking through the night, "DON'T LET HIM KILL US!" Their faces were releasing a sickening stew of maggots and corrupt blood. Bruce tried to turn away, he couldn't bare to see or hear anymore.

"Did you take us down that alley on purprose Bruce?" Thomas Wayne continued.

"Did you want us dead so you could take our fortune?" Martha Wayne added.

*End dream sequence*

Location: The Batcave, that night

"NOOOOOOOO!" Bruce shouted, as he lifted his head, gasping for breath. He looked around in confusion at the dark cavern before him, then drew his palm across his sweating face, as he slowly leaned forward, thinking his weakened heart would give out, but slowly his breathing quited allowing him to bury his face in his hands.

It was the same dream he'd had when his friend Harvey Dent became the original Two-Face when he suffered extensive burns from that exploding chemical vat so many years ago. Bruce straightened after a few moments. Lying on the on the computer console in front of him, and strewn across the worktable at his side, were dozens of newspaper clippings and magazine articles tracing Two-Face II's reign of terror, from his first appearance to his apprehension by Batman, to his return. Atop a stack of books on criminology and psychology lay a volume opened to a page with the heading 'Multiple Personalities.' The only other time Bruce had remembered ever needing to look at that chapter was when he confronted the original Two-Face, hoping beyond hope that it would lead him to a cure for Harvey's split personality.

Bruce lifted one of the front-page newspaper clipping with a large picture of the former chemist on a rampage at Gotham's Second National Bank. The corners of his mouth lifted into the rarest thing Bruce Wayne ever showed, a sad smile as he folded the paper in half, banishing the damaged side of the man's face.

"So what are you dreaming tonight, Jeffery?" Bruce whispered in the huge, quiet cavern before him, finding it ironic that he'd said the exact same words when he first faced Jeffery's father in battle. "Peaceful dreams? Nightmares? Maybe both at once?" He allowed the paper to unfold and laid it back on the console. He sighed. How could he have let this happen again, as his mind became awash in memories of his battles with the original Two-Face, and how over time he began to loose hope that Harvey would never be cured, and even when it seemed that goal had been reached, Bruce never believed it, and always steered himself for the monster's return.

"No," he murmured. "Not this time, Jeffery, wherever you are, whatever you've become, whatever you plan to do, Terry and I will find away to save you, I vow it."

From the console, the picture stared back at him. One side of the patchwork face was filled with mocking rage, while the other seemed to hold a tiny glimmer of hope. Hope that the man he'd once been proud to have called his godson was still somewhere inside the demon staring him in the face.

"You wanted to see me," a familiar voice said, from behind him, snapping Bruce out of his thought. He turned for a few brief seconds to see Terry standing behind him.

"Look I've made up my mind," Terry replied. Bruce didn't say anything, as he slowly stood up, motioning for Terry to follow him. Bruce and Terry made their way through a large tunnel, at the end of the tunnel they emerged into a large graveyard, in the center of which was a large mausoleum with the word: WAYNE inscribed across the top.

"Have you ever visited your father's grave?" Bruce asked. Terry shot him a confused gaze.

"No," Terry replied with a heavy sigh, "what does that have to do with anything?"

"When I first dawned the Batman costume," Bruce replied, "I would always come to my parents graves, to remind myself that my war was a war for justice, not vengeance. Yet as the years went on, I too faced crisis like the one you're facing," he allowed his mind to wonder, the memory of not being able to stop the bullet that nearly killed Commissioner Gordon, the terror and hopelessness s that had befallen Gotham and himself during No Man's Land, and the dispair that had fallen over the city during the rule of the Mutants and the other gangs, all were times where his faith and determination had all but faded, leaving him to wonder if Gotham was truely worth saving, "I never could explain why, but visiting the graves of my parents always helped remind me about why I had become Batman."

Terry remained silent, he'd never been close to his father, he still remembered how the last few hours they had spent together, they'd argued leading him to storming out. Of all the events of the last few years, those last few hours with his father had been the one thing he'd always wanted to change, yet knew he couldn't.

"You should go see Barbara, she wants to have a few words with you." Bruce said to him.

Terry nodded and then decided to don the costume once more.

Location: Gotham Police Headquarter - Night

Sweeping down onto the rooftop of Police Headquarters, Batman saw the Commisioner look down at her watch.

"Hello, Commisioner" he said in his patented voice.

"You're late kid." Barbara Gordon looked irritated.

"I'm sorry that Two-Face attacked you and your husband." Batman said, knowing that in the 10 years he has served this city but he had let her down when he didn't come to her rescue.

"Not a problem, but do you mind explaining this?" Barbara said as she took out the cover of the front page and handed it to him.

"I'm not involved with this," he said, throwing the picture of a woman in a sexy black leather and boots with a mask.

Then he felt a glove slowly tap his cape.

"I never knew I needed permission." The female voice said.

Batman turned around to see a young woman in the same outfit as it was shown in the front cover. Her grey and black scorpion emblem was on her sizable chest. Her red glaring cheeks were as colorful as the shoulder length hair that was in a braid that had a scorpion's stinger on the end as it came from the back of her mask. Looking into his eyes she showed off an open smile as she extended her hand.

"Black Scorpion, I presume." He said, not willing to shake her hand.

"Batman, I presume." She returned.

Commissioner Gordon looked at the impending fight between the two, "Can I speak to you alone?" as they made their to the other side of the roof. Barbara turned and looked at Batman, "God knows I don't ask many questions. I've never wanted some of the answers." She sighed.

Batman was confused, "What's on your mind, Commissioner?"

She looked at Black Scorpion and back to Batman, "What's with her?" she pointed to the female costumed vigilante.

Batman still didn't get it, "What do you mean?"

"I'm confused, you and your boss vowed to protect the innocent and yet you have her tagging along. I thought Bruce wouldn't allow anyone in this line of work after what happened with Tim. I don't get it. Is she your partner?"

Batman didn't know how to respond, "She's proven herself in combat and she's capable of taking care of herself." He remembered how she took down the Golum Gang.

"This is Jeffery Dent were talking about-" Barbara replied but was cut of by Batman, "She can handle it." he said.

"It's your call kid, It's always your call. But if any harm comes to her... God help me... I will drop on you and your boss from a great height." She warned as she began to make her way to the door. "I'll be leaving you two alone."

"So you want to tell me what's bugging the Commish?" she asked

"She's concerned about you." he stated

Black Scorpion was confused, "What's she worried about? I've done alright."

"You faced a few common thugs but Two-Face is a whole different story. His hatred for me runs deep. He believes that I betrayed his father Harvey Dent when he was District Attorney. Now that he became the second Two-Face, he's twisted that into a vendetta. He'll strike at you to get to me."

"So? He's just another Psycho with a gimmick." Black Scorpion stated

Batman became stern at that comment, "That's where you're wrong. His obsession with dualities is not a 'gimmick.' It runs to the core of his madness. You cannot psych this man. Don't even try. Anyways, I also heard that you saved Terry McGinnis and his mother. Why?" He inquired to Black Scorpion.

"Same reason you would've been there had you have been." She snapped back.

"But there is a difference," he replied.

"That I'm a woman and you're a man?" she said.

"I have been training for years to do this."

"What makes you think that I haven't?" She crossed her arms on her chest.

"So you have?" He asked

"I'm just trying to help out." She replied honestly

"And I will commend you for it but this is not just some club anyone with a costume can join."

"I did pretty well last night." Black Scorpion said. In the hot sweaty night Black Scorpion had a certain smell to her that he couldn't detect. A light perfume or shampoo that gave her extra appeal.

This had not been the first time Batman had let his guard down yet usually it was with someone different. When he first started to become his alter ego.

"Listen, when I have time I will look into seeing if you have what it takes for extensive training, but now I am busy." Batman said.

"The police, as much as I hate to say this, are not doing their jobs now. You will never have an off night if you work alone, and even if you have a partner you might not." Black Scorpion argued.

"That is my choice," Batman said.

"You can't think that grim forever," Black Scorpion replied. "Listen, I have my inside sources too. I don't need to follow you to do what my choice is as well."

"And what about your family and friends, what happens when you are back into the spotlight after being killed." Batman said, hoping to knock some since into her.

"Then they would hear the same thing as your family and friends and the people of Gotham, that I died trying to make their life a little better," Black Scorpion scowled.

"You're too young to be doing this," Batman replied.

"Are you kidding me? I was trained for this." Black Scorpion said.

"Why do you wear that costume?" Batman said, pointing out the her insignia.

Black Scorpion tried to delay some sort of blush, yet between the hot air above the rooftop and dark skies she was sure that he wouldn't realize.

"Because I have followed you for as long as I can remember, I believe in the same things that you do, and I'm tired of sitting around and just admiring your mission."

There was a momentary pause between the two who had started talking from a foot and a half away to being practically chest and chest.

"What harm could I do to you and your career?" Black Scorpion asked.

"You could make criminals think that what I do is a joke," Batman said.

"Or maybe I would make you lose the spotlight. Don't think you're not tricking me. You may wear a mask but you are the biggest celebrity in all of Gotham. Aren't you afraid of losing that?"

"I don't acknowledge the publicity or I'd be wearing corporate sponsorship on my suit." Batman grunted.

"So why do you wear the Bat," she said pointing to his own Bat symbol.

"Because this city needs me," he said.

"And I'm sure that not everyone was in it when you made that choice to follow that calling," she continued.

"No but," Batman stammered.

"So let's not go against my ideas and get some work done." She said and walked over to a folder placed on the side of the building. "You may consider this the beginning of my interview if you really think that deep down inside you need too." Batman looked at her, she did seem to be more than the bar fight like criminals. She gave him her notes, all were written on a type writer, that meant there could be no handwriting analysis to see who she was. It was on a finger print free paper as well.

"You need me to take Two-Face down, you can't do this alone." She extends her hand to him. "Partners?"

"Fine, we're partners." as he shook her hand.

To be continued...**  
**


	16. Darkness Falls

Batman Beyond: The Return of Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk and Dragonfang33

Chapter 16: Darkness Falls

Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay everyone. Is my Two-Face stories for batman Beyond not that great that doesn't get many good reviews after i post up a new chapter? I too deserve some feedback to make it better ya know... YOU people call yourselves fans of Batman Beyond can't even take the time to review my two-face stories that i put a lot of effort into it.

Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is the copyright of DC comics and Warner Brothers is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only plus we don't own the characters used in this story.

Location: Outside the Ace Chemical Plant, Gotham Historical District - Night

The old Ace Chemical Plant was one of the few buildings in the Gotham City Historical District that was still in use, only these days it served more as a storage building for Wayne Enterprises. Yet for some, the building was a scar as bad, if not worse then Arkham Asylum. The old urban legends that traveled through the darkness that ate away at Gotham's soul said that it was within those walls that the Joker, a man considered by many in Gotham to be evil incarnet, had been born, after falling into a vat of toxic waste during a botched robbery, it was here that Harvey Dent became the orignal Two-Face after an explosion had left the left half of his face disfigured. Many still said that on certain nights, you could hear The Joker's spine chilling laugh echoing through the darkened hallways, others said that the ghost of the original Joker haunted these halls, a story that had made the plant the perfect initiation sight for The Jokerz.

Ever since the plant had reopened it had become the target of vandels, it's walls tagged with graffeti saying: NEVER FORGET WHAT WAS CREATED HERE, EVIL DWELLS WITHIN THESE WALLS, PEACE OF MIND IS MORE IMPORTANT THEN HISTORY. For the security guards who patroled the grounds, the history of the chemical plant was something that was always at the back of their minds, some urban legends aid that The Joker's ghost still walked the halls of the plant, however ghost stories were the last things on their minds, with Two-Face still on the loose Mr. Wayne had ordered security at the plant doubled.

For the two guards that guarded the front gate, all seemed normal, the only sounds that coud be heard were the crickets cherping, it was at that moment a large hover limo pulled upto the front gate of the plant.

"Is Mr. Wayne suppose to be coming by?" one of the guards inquired

"Are you crazy," the other replied, getting up, "the last time Wayne left his manor, we were still in diapers." the guard made his way to the door, and slowly approached the driver's side window, "this is private property, now move along." there was no response, the guard once again tapped on the window.

"Sir this is private property," the guard once again said, "I'll have to ask you to move along," slowly the window lowered, before the guard had a chance react a single bullet blast emerged from the window, tearing into the guard's chest. Before the other guard had a chance to react, a series of rapid fire erupted from the rear of the limo, ripping the guard nearly in half.

"Move ahead," a cold voice said from within the limo.

"Right," the driver replied. Slowly the limo made it's way through the front gate.

"Boss," the man said, as he activated the phone, "We've gained entrance to the chemical plant."

"Excellent," Two-Face replied, "Continue with your mission Buttons, remember the plant needs to be taken intact, especally the control room and any of the dranage systems that lead to the sewers, so don't get carried away."

"Will do," Buttons McBoomBoom said, deactivating the phone.

Location: Ruins of the Wild Deuce Club, Historic District, later that night

At one time, the Wild Deuce Club had been one of Gotham City's primire night clubs, hosting every thing from the hottest stars to the most notorious of gangsters, the perfect hideout and front operation for the orginal Two-Face, but that was before the Economic Collapse, the destruction of No Man's Land, and the rise of gangs such as the Mutants turned the city into a warzone for the better part of a decade, before Gotham became the techno-megalopois it was today. Today the Wild Deuce Club, like many of the decayed cobweb filled buildings that lined Gotham's Historic District is little more then a ghost, harkening back to a forgotten era, for Two-Face II using the ruins of the club as his base of operations, was like bringing the Dent legacy to full circle.

"Hey Boss," the Dee-Dees said, "we just got a call from McBoomBoom, he's finished securing the chemical plant."

"Excellent," Two-Face replied, as he activated yet another holomonitor, "it's time to commence phase 2 of my plan."

Location: New Arkham Asylum, outskirts of Gotham City - Night

Dr. Elizabeth Arkham paced in front of her desk as though she were a caged animal, this asylum, it was her family legacy, she'd fought so long and so hard, spending nearly the entire Arkham Family forturne to reclaim control of the asylum, yet running an asylum requires compitence and above all money, something she had long overlooked and something she now lacked.

Above all else she wanted to redeem her family name, to succeed where her father and great-uncle had failed, to actually cure the criminally insane of the demons that drove them to commit crimes so horrendous most of Gotham City refused to even acknowledge they had taken place, yet like her father and great uncle her efforts had proven forenought, the Asylum was practically bankrupt and was once again facing a take over by the city due to it's money problems and the apparent lax security that had developed under Elizabeth's tennure, inside it was pretty much a warzone, between the few guards who remained and the inmates, the inmates Elizabeth had spent so much time and money trying to rehabilitate and had failed.

"No," Elizabeth thought to herself, trying to put the deal she had made out of her mind, "I won't loose the Asylum again." Just as she finished her thought the sound of her holophone ringing broke the silence of the office. She breathed in heavily as she activated the phone, knowing full well who was on the other line.

"Is everything prepared Dr. Arkham," Two-Face said, as the hologram took shape. Elizabeth bit her tounge, but she kept reminding herself that her life's work was at stake and if she didn't play ball with Two-Face's plan she could loose the asylum, just as her father had.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, "I uploaded the codes to unleash the inmates to your assisstants, all they need to do is get past the front guard."

"That won't be a problem," Two-Face replied, before he could log out Elizabeth called out to him, "You don't have to do this Jeffery."

Two-Face turned to her with anger, "You don't know me well enough to call me, Jeffery." as the hologram faded from view, tears welled up in Elizabeth's eyes as the sounds of gunfire echoed through out the front courtyard.

"Is it still worth it," Elizabeth said to herself, "is it still worth it?"

Location: Gotham City Parking Garage - Night

Two black SUV's pulled onto the top floor and out stepped a large man with a thick Russian accent named Vladimir 'Vlad' Lem. A mobster, arms-dealer and one of the crime lords of Gotham City. One of his bodyguards pointed at the bat-signal that lit up the sky again. Vlad shrugged. "This why we bring dogs." Another bodyguard opened the back door of one of the SUV's and three enormous rottweilers bounded out, growling.

Vlad walked to the second SUV and, from the trunk, dragged out a skinny, wild-eyed, scared junkie by his hair. The junkie was babbling because of hallucination: "No! NO GET 'EM OFF ME! OFF ME!"

A battered white van sat opposite the SUV's. Vlad dragged the Junkie to the van, whose rear door opened. Two armed thugs came out with barrels, and a third man hid in the darkness within the van.

"Look! Look what your drug did to my customers!" Vlad yelled to the dark figure.

"Buyer beware..." said the very softly voice. The figure emerged from the darkness dressed in what resembled a puritan preacher with a long black wig, a skeleton mask, and hangman's noose around his neck. He was also found to be often carrying a simple unvarnished wooden stick which he uses as a weapon occasionally.

It was Dr. Johnathan Crane aka The Scarecrow, wearing his mark. He'd been missing in Gotham for sometime until he finally decided to stage his comeback. "I told your man that my compound would take you places. I never said they'd be places you wanted to go."

Vlad grimaced, then retorted, "My business is repeat customers."

"If you don't like what I have to offer, you can buy from someone else," The Scarecrow said, walking closer. "Assuming the Batman left anyone else to buy from."

Vlad frowned, angered. Suddenly the dogs began to bark. The silhouette of the Batman stood in the shadows behind the white van. Oh, slag... unless... The Batman was slouched... couldn't this be an impersonator? There were plenty of copycat wannabes of the Batman running around Gotham at night. "Pity there's only one of you!"

BANG! A thump resounded from behind the white van. There was another Batman. Or not.

Then three more appeared. BOOM! A hole tore open in the SUV next to Vlad. The first Batman walked into the light with a Ithaca Model 37 long barrel shotgun.

"That's not him," said The Scarecrow. "Batman doesn't use guns."

"How you know?" Vlad asked.

"We're old friends." The Scarecrow muttered.

Suddenly the crunching of cars sounded as the entire group of people turned to see a huge black shape slamming onto a row of parked cars. It was the Batmobile.

"That's more like it." said The Scarecrow.

Vlad's men began shooting mercilessly at the Batmobile but to no avail they just bounced off the bulletproof outside of the Batmobile and inside, it was empty. No one sat in the cockpit. One of the small screens read 'Loiter... Loiter... Loiter...' finally, the shooting outside stopped. The men stared at the Batmobile for a couple of quiet moments when BOOM the screen read 'INTIMIDATE!', the Batmobile blasts a car behind the men.

As one of the Batman posers walked into the light, aiming his shotgun. CLUNK, a black gauntlet grasped the barrel and bent it down. The poser looked up to see the real Batman. The Batman punched the poser, pushing him out of the way of three dogs, who attacked the next poser.

Batman's partner Black Scorpion jumped atop the second impersonator and pulled off two of the dogs, but the third dog jumped on Black Scorpion. It locked its jaws around Black Scorpion's forearm, but then SMASH, Black Scorpion flung the dog against the ground. Batman stood, breathing, over the railing as he waited for The Scarecrow to drive the white van in the levels below. The Batman jumped and fell ten stories...

CRASH, The Scarecrow's van stopped as Batman landed above.

Location: Gotham City Parking Garage, Back Railing - Night

Vlad's men, the fake Batmen, and The Scarecrow are lined up, bound with zip-ties, against the railing. Somehow Vlad escaped with his dogs. Batman walked to the Batmen and in a scolding voice, said, "Don't let us find you out here again."

He ripped off The Scarecrow's mask to reveal a really old man with long grey hair and a beard, threw it over the railing, and walked to the Batmobile.

"We're trying to help you!" yelled one of the Batmen named Brian Douglas.

"He doesn't need your help." Black Scorpion responded.

"Not my diagnosis." said The Scarecrow with a maniacal grin.

"Shut up Crane!" Black Scorpion sneered as she kicked him in the chest. "No one asked for your opinion."

"You need us! There's only two of you, it's a war out here! What gives you the right? What's the difference between you and me?" Brian asked.

"We're not wearing hockey pads!" Batman stated as he and Black Scorpion mounted the Batmobile and lower themselves. The Batmobile roared off while Brian looked down at his makeshift costume and sighed.

Inside the Batmobile, Black Scorpion was tending to her arm with some medical equipment. Batman looks at her, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll live. it's just a flesh wound." she smiled then begain to ponder, "I thought Scarecrow was dead?"

"That's what I was lead to believe. I'm just glad that he's caught before he could do any more harm then he already did." Batman said to his partner.

Location: Mayor's Office - Night

The media had been having a field day, with Two-Face's gang attacking two sites in the historic district within half an hour of each other. Questions were already being raised about the police's ability to containe the situation, and the possibility of more attacks in other parts of the city. But the biggest question remained: where was Batman?

"Two-Face and his gang are having a field day," Mayor Davis snapped, slamming his fists onto the desk, "the Press are eating it up, and the local police let alone The Batman can't seem to handle the situation. My god, it's like the Arkham Asylum and Arkham City incidents all over again." Barbara however was not ammused, it was typical of Mayor Davis to blame Gotham's high crime rate and corruption on either Batman or incopitence on her part.

"Now just a minute Mayor Davis," Barbara said, trying her best to keep her composure, "You can't blame the Gotham City Police and Batman for this. We haven't recieved any demands or seen any hostages. No, there's more to this then a simple ransom, Two-Face is plotting something big and we still need to find out what it is."

"That's why I requested Federal Assistance," Mayor Davis replied. Barbara once again was forced to try and keep her composure, it was natural for local and Federal law enforcemet to always be at each other's throats over something.

"Mr. Mayor," Barbara replied, "I'm sure my officers, along with Batman and this Black Scorpion can handle the situtations."

"This is not a matter for debate," Davis replied harshly, "Federal Agent Baldwin P. Vess aka Bulletproof should be arriving from Empire City any moment. He's the best criminologist in the country and will also bring in a C.O.P.S. unit."

"C.O.P.S?" Barbara inquired

"It's a classfied Police Force drawing members from the best local and state police departments across the country, though under Federal Authority." Davis said, "It's short for Central Organization of Police Specialists, it was created to avoid a repeat of the No Man's Land fiasco and the near state of Anarchy this city decends into everytime your precious Batman vanishes."

"Thank you," a cool and masculinity voice said. They tuned to the door to see a large African American man wearing a tan trenchcoat, which covered a stainless steel bullet-proof metal frame, which had helped earn him the nickname 'Bulletproof' at the C.O.P.S Academy. The armor made his torso or any part of his body covered by it impervious to pain and injury. Rarely seen without wearing dark sunglasses, the Agent has short black hair and wears a yellow shirt with a narrow black tie, carrying a gun holster with a Smith & Wesson Model 629 Stealth Hunter .44 Magnum pistol inside of his trenchcoat on his left shoulder, He also wore reddish-brown pants, and black and white shoes.

"Ah Agent Vess," Mayor Davis said, shaking his hand, "So good of you to come so quickly, we've arrange a reseption party at City Hall."

"If you don't mind Mayor Davis," Vess said coldly, "I would like to start working on bringing down Two-Face." Barbara remained silent, she knew what that ment, C.O.P.S Units deployed through out Gotham under the prietence of keeping order, she'd seen it before in Gotham after the Earthquake and again in Bludhaven after the Chemo attack... they didn't even leave the rubble standing.

"But of course," the mayor added, "Commissioner Gordon and her men will assist you to bring down that criminal. Won't you Commissioner?" Barbara froze for a moment, she had to alert Terry and Bruce that they needed to move on Two-Face's hide out, if the Agent's C.O.P.S units went in, it would be a massacre the likes of which Gotham hadn't seen since No Man's Lands.

"Yes absolutely," Barbara replied, hesitantally.

To be continued...


End file.
